Hearts of Hunvel
by Lysse
Summary: The next generation of Hunvel sets out on a journey to save their families and homes from an enemy seeking revenge and power.
1. The Celebration

**Hearts of Hunvel**

The writers who brought you _Born of Men but of Elven Beauty _now come together again with the next generation of Hunvel. SilverLoom07, VilyaTook, mook, and Lysse are proud to present _Hearts of Hunvel_, a tale of adventure, pride, and courage of the hearts of Hunvel.

* * *

Prince Dorion couldn't help but feel the object of all attention. It was not just any day for him; it was his seventeenth birthday. This was a moment of manhood, of becoming of age, of being _responsible_. That word was a dismal reminder of what was about to come.  
In the dinning hall, the tables were full of people. Some Dorion didn't know, but most he did. The whole city of Hunvel and nearby residents had come to see him. He noticed---as most young lads do---that the amount of girls at this celebration was more than in past years. They seemed to eye him like candy on a table waiting to be devoured. Dorion did not wish for such a thing; it made him uncomfortable.  
Just then, his father, Lord Kiran of Hunvel, rose from his throne located in the front hall and called out to get everyone's attention. The room became silent and all listened. "Will Prince Dorion, my son and heir, come before me?"  
Dorion arose, waving softly to Ronin's friends, and with burdened feet made his way to the front. His mother Lady Hiranneth joined Lord Kiran's side and smiled at her elder son.  
Lord Kiran spoke again. "Dorion is of age now to receive the heirlooms of my house." Reaching behind his throne, Kiran revealed a small wooden chest that he presented to his son. As Dorion took the chest, his father said softly, "You may open them in your chamber after dinner. There you will see the ancestry of your house and of your blood."  
Though everyone wished him to stay and celebrate his birthday, Dorion quietly excused himself from the dining hall, the wooden chest in his arms. He needed some time alone to reflect on his received heirlooms and his big day.

With a sigh, Ronin opened the heavy back door to the dining hall and snuck in. The celebration of his brother's birthday had started only a few minutes ago, but the room was full of joyous Elves and others who had journeyed to see the short ceremony in which Dorion would receive the heirlooms of the kings of Hunvel.  
His bright eyes scanned the room for a familiar face. Seated at a table nearby was his small group of friends, Elves who were part of the more common class of Hunvel. They greeted him in the Elven tongue and pulled up a chair for him. It wasn't long before his father, from the front of the room, called Dorion up to the throne. Ronin pondered his brother's actions, which seemed uncomfortable in front of the crowd who had gathered to see him. As he watched him walk off to his room, familiar thoughts entered his mind.  
_Perhaps he doesn't want to be a ruler. Perhaps he desires a life like mine, free from responsibility,_ Ronin thought. _And he does not know how deeply I desire to be in his place. They've always said he's special, but I am special too! I am always overlooked. I won't even inherit the throne, simply because I am not the firstborn!_  
His indignant thoughts were interrupted when one of his friends commented to him, "Isn't that the girl you're always talking about, Ronin? That one there, with the red hair?"

"Yeah, that's her," Ronin answered, looking down the table.. "At least I think it's her. I don't know. She looks...older. And beautiful."

Anita was seated at a table not far from the front of the room. She wore a gorgeous cream gown with a low neckline and a beaded headdress. She also, like the rest of her family, wore a small necklace with a miniscule vile attached which held a black liquid. She looked stunning for a girl of only fourteen and caught the eye of many young lads in the hall. Anita's brother, Gerard, sat next to her. Though his vile was not visible, she knew he was wearing it. Their father, Geran, was not far off, probably deep in conversation with some pompous Elf.  
Anita sighed and looked around. She saw Ronin, the younger prince, looking at her openly. Another boy was whispering in his ear. Anita smiled winsomely and turned to her brother. "Isn't that your friend gawking at me?"

Gerard started and dropped his spoon. Anita chuckled a light tinkling laugh, one that might compare to the sound of a bell. Gerard frowned and looked at the boy Anita mentioned. "Oh, yes, that's Prince Ronin." He coughed uncomfortably. "When you were gone, I spoke often of you. He was somehow under the impression that you were a child," he said with a grin.

Anita just raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I can certainly change that." With that, she pushed back her chair and sauntered over to the Prince. "You must be his Highness, Prince Ronin. I've heard so much about you." She tossed her red locks as she looked back at her brother. "My brother, he loves to chatter." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gerard lean forward with a frustrated look on his face. Anita smiled slightly, holding up a small hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, your Highness, I am Anita."

As his friends got up from the table, giving him looks that said "Good luck," Ronin found himself shaking Anita's hand, blushing furiously. "There's no need for the formalities," he said. "Dorion's the only real prince around here."  
He was suddenly aware that he did not much look the part of prince either. His hair was ruffled and he wore a dark brown and green outfit that seemed to stand out like a sore thumb in the crowd of brightly dressed Elves. Stuttering a bit, he spoke again to cover the short silence that had fallen. "You brother spoke of you often, and quite highly. However, I never got the impression that you were so beautiful. Not that he didn't mention it, but what he said could never compare to seeing you..." He trailed off to another awkward silence.

Anita laughed happily. "Why thank you, but of course you are a real prince," she added seriously. "Throne or not, it's who you are, not what you inherit."

With that, she spun around lightly and headed back to her brother. "He's sweet," she commented with a giggle.

Gerard just laughed and took on a hurt expression. "I chatter?" Anita grinned and left the hall for her room.

Ronin watched Anita leave the room with a glassy-eyed far-away look on his face. His thoughts were consumed by her, the way her red hair fell down in waves that caught the light, the way her green eyes sparkled when she laughed, and the way her cream-colored gown swished gracefully about her feet as she walked. In a bit of a daze, Ronin walked over to Gerard and took a seat next to him. "Your sister," he began. "I…wow. She really is gorgeous. I think I like her." His face blushed bright red, because he never before seemed to have so much trouble saying something so simple. Now his mind was blank and his mouth wouldn't form the right words.

"You're not the first." Gerard said simply to Ronin. He smiled and looked around. "So when does the dessert get here?"

"Who cares about desert?" Ronin exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air to emphasize his words. "Tell me more about _her!_ Do you think she likes me? Do you---" He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the fairly annoyed look on Gerard's face. "Er, sorry. I don't know what got into me."

Gerard broke into a grin. "No matter. Go easy on her."

Although Dorion's party was not through, he made his way to his room. In his arms he held his wooden chest full of heirlooms. He stammered around the halls and almost fell in his pursuit for his bedroom door. As he ran into the wall, the chest opened and a wrapped package fell out, landing lightly on the ground. With great frustration he moved his body and tried to balance the chest on his right arm and reach the fallen package with his right.  
He slipped in his maneuver, and before he could react further the chest fell out of his arms, packages tumbling out onto the floor. He moaned loudly and exclaimed, "What _else_ could possibly happen?"  
He suddenly heard footsteps coming his way.

Anita rounded a corner and stopped suddenly when she saw the elder prince struggling with several packages. "Um, excuse me, your Highness, would you like some help?" It was the first time she had stuttered for years. She blushed and picked a few parcels off the top of the pile. Anita opened the door for Prince Dorion and waited for him to go in first. _He is so tall..._Anita followed in a daze and placed the packages she held on his large bed. Not saying another word, she managed to curtsy gracefully and turned to leave, blushing furiously.

Dorion was a bit stunned by the beautiful girl that helped him with his packages. A small, brief smile came across his face as the girl opened the door for him. With great relief he placed the remaining packages in the chest down on the bed. He turned and noticed that she was still there, and what's more, she _curtsied_. He placed his hands on his head, trying to hide his frustration, then finally spoke to her. "Have I met you, miss, or are you simply one of the guests?"

Anita stopped in mid-stride and turned around. "I am Anita, a guest of course, but my brother is also good friends with Prince Ronin," she replied, realizing she had been holding her breath.

Dorion frowned as the girl spoke. He did not know any of his brother's friends. "Well," he mumbled as he scratched his head, "it's nice to meet you, I suppose."

The young redhead nodded. "The pleasure is all mine, your Highness." With that, she fled the room, all the while with butterflies in her stomach. She flew down the castle steps and collapsed on a bench outside.

Laurëa sat at a table near the front of the great dining hall idly, her head resting on her fist, staring at the full plate before her. "This is so _dull_," she muttered.  
"We did not come here to be entertained, Laurëa. We came to honor the Lord of Hunvel's elder son," said Leeum who sat beside her. His grey-blue eyes narrowed slyly. "Who is quite handsome, I am told," he added.  
"But---"  
"Laurëa, mind your father," interrupted her mother. Ahéawan smiled fondly at her daughter. "We won't stay much longer, but your father wants to congratulate Kir--the Lord and Lady before we leave."  
Laurëa rolled her eyes and fondled a strand of her white-blonde hair, a feature inherited from her father Leeum. "But these people here," her eyes shifted around her disgustedly, "are so..._common_! Peasants, some of them!"  
Leeum looked sharply at his daughter. "They have all come to congratulate the Lord's son. As have we. Now I will not have any more of that sort of talk about the people of Hunvel, is that understood?"  
Again rolling her eyes, Laurëa nodded faintly, seeing the frown both her parents were giving her. She stared back down at her full plate, not feeling the least bit hungry, the uneasiness of having dirty peasants around her ruining her appetite. She fell to her common habit of tracing the family mark on her cheek with her finger, waiting for the night to be over with a disgusted sneer.  
"Eat something, dear," Ahéawan said to her daughter. Upon receiving no reply, she looked up the hall to where Lord Kiran and Lady Hiranneth sat enjoying their meal together. "Let us go congratulate our Lord and Lady, Leeum," she suggested cheerfully. Both her and her husband got up from their table. "Come, Laurëa!" Ahéawan called as they started toward the head table.  
With a soft moan, Laurëa got slowly up from the table, dusting off her crimson robes. She followed behind her parents with her nose in the air, ignoring the looks of the people she passed. _This is going to be a long night..._

Hiranneth watched as the dinning hall buzzed with particular excitement. Seeing old friends and meeting new ones brought back fond memories. She took Kiran's hand as they both sat back down in their thrones. She found herself looking for Ahéawan and Leeum; how she wished they had come. Suddenly out of the crowds, she saw their smiling faces. They were dressed especially well for the occasion and looked like they hadn't changed a day. Hiranneth admitted it hadn't been that long since she last saw them, but being of nobility in Hunvel meant a lot of time away from friends. She stood up along with Kiran and gave both Ahéawan and Leeum warm embraces.  
"It is wonderful to see you here," she beamed at them.

Ronin laughed along with Gerard as he was teased about Anita. His eyes scanned the crowds, most of which had gathered around the thrones at the front of the room. He could see his parents greeting guests.  
His father appeared to be in deep conversation with two of the guest whom he recognized as Leeum and Ahéawan, people of some importance in the town whose positions Ronin could not remember. Behind them was a girl about their age, presumably their daughter, looking bored out of her mind. Ronin saw that Gerard had looked in that direction too to see what held his attention.  
"Shall we go save her?" Ronin asked. "She looks bored."

"Sure, why not?" Gerard replied with a shrug. The two lads made their way over to the bored-looking girl. "Could we pry you from this most interesting conversation?" he asked her with a very straight face.

Laurëa had stood close by uninterested as her parents talked with the Lord and Lady of Hunvel, smiling curtly and curtsying in all the right places, as she had been brought up to do. As her parents continued making small talk, Laurëa folded her arms and leaned against a nearby wall, inspecting her fingernails.

It took Laurëa a moment to realize someone was talking to her. She straightened instantly, prepared to meet someone important, only to meet two boys about her age, both plain and rather dirty. It must have been the red-headed boy that had spoken, for he was looking at her strangely, as if expecting a reply.  
Laurëa only sneered at him. "I beg your pardon?" she asked rather rudely.

Gerard's handsome face creased with a frown. "Laurëa, it's me. Gerard." He looked expectantly at her and turned to look at Ronin, who simply gave him a look that spoke volumes. "Uh, I can see you've grown." In fact, she hadn't really grown at all. Gerard had never really known her well, but they had certainly met before. "You look very nice." He suddenly regretted his words; he knew all too well how she hated the word nice.

Laurëa wrinkled her nose in thought as she tried to remember the youth's face. _Gerard...yes. The one with the coquette sister._ "Ah. Gerard." Her sneer did not lessen any as she looked him up and down. "I don't believe you have grown any. You've just as many freckles as ever." She noticed the discomfort growing on his face and smirked.

Gerard's green eyes darkened and his face was as calm as ever. "Why thank you, your _majesty_." He said in a steely tone. "Mind your head. I've heard that small girls with parents high up on the ladder are prone to big heads when they grow up, if that is what you're planning on doing sometime soon," Gerard spat with a finality that left no question of further comment. With that, he walked coolly away.

Laurëa sneered again as the red-head Gerard marched off, but sly satisfaction played on her face. After a moment of watching him leave, she suddenly noticed the other youth that had been watching the entire conversation with a frown. Laurëa studied him with her cold grey-blue eyes. "You are Ronin, aren't you?"

"_Prince_ Ronin, actually," he said, staring into her eyes, wondering just what it would take to make her uncomfortable. He pondered what insults he knew, but was interrupted by his father, who seemed just now to have noticed him there. He broke off from his conversation for a moment to speak to them.  
"Ronin, why don't you take Laurëa here out to the gardens?" his father asked. "And if you see you brother out there, you can send him in? I need to speak to him."  
With a sigh, Ronin nodded. He turned and walked off towards the gardens, not bothering to see if Laurëa was following. She didn't seem very pleasant to be around anyway, and he would not be saddened if she didn't follow him.

Laurëa watched _Prince_ Ronin stride off, then looked to her parents. They were still talking, now with other esteemed members of the Council of Hunvel, and from the looks of it they were going to continue doing so for quite some time. A slight frown creased the corners of her mouth as she stared down the hall after the retreating form of Ronin. After a moment of thought, she picked up her skirts and strode off after him. _I need some fresh air anyway,_ she thought, the open skies of the palace gardens in mind.

Gerard exited the dining hall to find his sister sitting thoughtfully on a bench in the garden. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" he commented peevishly.

"What's gotten into you?" Anita asked mildly.

Gerard sighed. "Oh it's that girl, Laurëa, the one that called you a coquette a while back. She's worse than ever," he grumbled.

Anita felt the heated grudge arise in her and she glared at the ground. "Oh yes..._her_."

Geran pried himself away from the drawling Elves in whose company he had somehow fallen. He still felt uncomfortable in this place. He wasn't meant for great halls. Yet however he felt, he looked the part. He wore a black doublet and crimson leggings. His dark red hair was pulled back with a black chord, and his short beard was trimmed. He stood in silent contemplation, and decided to congratulate the Lord and Lady, though he had never really spoken to them, only seen them in tapestries and gazed at them as they stood on a faraway balcony. He sighed and turned to leave the dining hall, but some unseen force held him there watching the Lady Hiranneth greet a few guests.

Hiranneth's attention was immediately drawn to a man with dark red hair standing awkwardly in a corner of the room. He looked as if he wanted to speak to her, yet still stood silently. Hiranneth excused herself from the company of Leeum and Ahéawan and walked over to him. He seemed nervous as she made her way.  
"Hello," she said while taking his hand in hers. "I do believe I know of you, yet perhaps we have met before."  
She knew this was a lie; she had never met him before. But something drew her to him that she could not explain.

"I don't think we have, your Majesty." Geran said smoothly. "Perhaps you knew one of my brothers. I have four of them---or was it three?" He laughed easily but then stopped. He went silent and a pained look entered his clouded green eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't bore you with my family life. Your guests are probably waiting."

Hiranneth face grew pale as it dawned on her. _This must be one of Kiarton's brothers._ He sure did look like him and his laugh was ghostly to her. She bowed her head to him and said, "I did know your kin, sir. Kiarton was my good friend." She noticed him move uncomfortably; perhaps he was wondering how she knew Kiarton. "Your brother gave his life to save Hunvel."

Geran's face grew stony, and he felt his heart sink. In reality, he and his family had always known they would never see Kiarton again. Long ago, he had learned life wasn't some happy fairytale where the good always wins. It was the real world, Middle Earth, where death and evil were ever present and justice not.

The reality of life finally set in: his older brother was gone. Geran only stood straighter and his eyes were fierce. "I am proud of him then. He was never happy living; he knew he would die fighting." He bowed fluidly and set his teeth. "Thank you for your knowledge, your Majesty."  
He turned around and stepped out of the hall. Leaning against a wall, a single tear ran down his darkened face. _You always knew this, Geran. You knew he had died,_ he told himself quietly. _But he died with valor, the way he wanted._


	2. Stewards and Thrones

Dorion stifled a laugh as the young girl fled his room in embarrassment. He re-entered his room and looked at the heap of "gifts" on his bed. Taking one by one and arranging them in piles according to size and shape, he decided to first open the small one that he had dropped earlier.  
Unwrapping the delicate flower-like wrapping paper he found it was a book. "Not another book!" he mumbled. He opened the book to the front cover and read the scribbled writings of Elvish. It read:  
_To Our Future King and Hero of Hunvel,  
Within these pages are the history that ties us all together, the history that we have made and now we pass to the next generation. I pray that you will have this be an heirloom unto your people for the days to come.  
Cordially, _

_Authon, Steward of Hunvel_  
Dorion scratched his head. _There was a steward?_ Now that he thought about it, it did make since. When there was no royal family for many years, someone must have ruled. But where had this Authon gone to?  
Dorion began to skim through the pages. He opened to the accounts of the war of the Wraiths and the great victory achieved there. He read of his parents, of people he did not know named Kiarton and Amdireh, and of Leeum and Ahéawan, whom he remembered as friends of the royal family and prominent members of the Council of Hunvel.  
He closed the book and looked around. He did not have much time before he was called back down to the dining hall, but he wanted to open one more heirloom. He picked up a large package, the largest one he had received. It was cold to the touch and he gently opened it. The steel blade caught his attention first and made him smile. _My father's sword from the Wraith War, _he thought proudly Inscribed upon the hilt of the blade was the Elven word for honor, _Aista._  
Dorion grabbed the hilt and began to twirl it about like a child with his toy. For the first time in forever, he felt happy with himself.  
After a minute or two, he stepped out of his room with both the book and the sword. He had put on his normal day outfit to feel more comfortable, a dark blue tunic with leggings. A silver belt wrapped around his waist and he wore arm guards of fine, black, polished leather with the hawk of Hunvel etched in them. His hair was freely falling in his face and his eyes shown excitement and adventure.  
He wandered out into the Hunvel gardens where he found that girl from his room and Ronin's friend sitting on a bench under the moonlight.

When he saw the elder Prince enter, Gerard stood up and bowed slightly. "Prince Dorion, you're looking well," he said sincerely, eyeing the beautiful sword the Prince held. "Is that the Sword of Hunvel?" he asked in awe.

Anita looked away, slightly abashed, but clamped her teeth when she saw the strutting form of Laurëa coming towards them. _I hate that girl,_ she thought to herself. She was however, glad that the Prince Ronin was also on his way.

Dorion smiled at Ronin's friend. _Gerard, is it?_ he wondered. "No, I'm afraid it isn't that important. This is my father's sword from the Wraith War." He twirled it about proudly and cut the shining blade through the air. After a moment, he gave a small smile and put it in sheath as he noticed two figures approaching. One was his brother, the other a rather angry-looking girl.  
"Ronin," he called to his brother, flashing a big grin, "I see you have another dashing young woman on your heels. May this be the one you're going to keep?" Dorion was often known to tease his younger brother on his "love life" although he thought Ronin was rather young for such things.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ronin said with a snort. "This is the daughter of Leeum and Ahéawan. Father instructed me to accompany her out here and to tell you that you're wanted inside. I think they need to present you again as the heir to the throne or something."  
He tried to keep his tone indifferent, but his jealousy of his brother still managed to show through in his words. He couldn't help, as well, that his eyes wandered over to Anita as he spoke, as though drawn to her by something other than his own mind.

Amused by the look Ronin was giving him, Dorion chuckled. He stepped next to Gerard and whispered, "What is this girl's name?" discreetly pointing at the redhead that was glaring at Ronin's "dashing young woman."

"Oh yes, that's my sister, Anita. I suppose you two haven't met before," he replied, though the look Anita was giving the Prince Dorion suggested otherwise.

Dorion crossed his arms. "Well, Anita...Nice to finally know your name."  
He turned to Gerard. "She followed me into my room, quite odd really, but I'm used to it. The young women come in flocks, always trying to catch my eye. Maybe if I weren't so stubborn I'd finally choose one to call mine." Dorion laughed at the annoyed look he aroused from his brother.

Anita straightened as she heard her brother and the Prince Dorion talking. "Actually, we have met, dear brother mine," she said in a sarcastic and lofty voice. She laughed coldly and tried not to scowl as she looked back at Laurëa. "Hello, Prince Ronin," she said with a pretty smile. "And Laurëa, how are you?" Though her tone was amiable, inside she was bubbling with anger.

Laurëa looked to that girl, _the coquette_, and spoke in a sickly sweet manner. "Why I am just peachy, dear girl. Though I must say, Dorion, this little party of yours has been quite dull." She strutted over to a granite bench and sat down, smoothing her crimson skirts haughtily. She noticed the small group of youths gawking at her strangely---with disgust, dare she say?---and adjusted her silver headband, turning her cheek with her father's emblem engraved on it towards them so they might all have a good look in the moonlight.

Dorion frowned at the girl's comment, but almost immediately a smile was brought to his face. "I know that, my dear. Why do you think I am hiding in the gardens with all of you?" He laughed heartily at his own joke, though the others remained silent, all glaring at Laurëa.

Anita looked away from Dorion and saw Ronin looking slightly distressed. "Prince Ronin, are you alright?" She saw a look that was distinctly jealousy leave his features as he looked up.

Gerard looked to his sister. "He's fine 'Nita."

Anita laughed. "How many times must I tell you that my name is _Anita_?"

Gerard grinned. "At least once more. You know, all of this "Prince Ronin this, Prince Ronin that" is getting on my nerves. You wouldn't mind if she called you just Ronin, would you Ron?" Gerard had a way with annoying nick-names.

"As long as you don't call me 'Ron', I'm fine with it," Ronin said. "I must agree with you on this, Anita, his nicknames just get on my nerves." He flashed a wicked grin at Gerard as though daring him to say something about that.

Anita smiled. "Indeed he does, Ronin." Gerard looked injured, but Anita just laughed. "It's the truth, brother mine."

Dorion laughed at the redheads' playful banter. He could tell his brother was quite mad, and an angry Ronin was very likely to explode at the smallest provoking. Dorion was reminded of one time when he teased Ronin about his height---which wasn't much of an issue---but nonetheless it turned into an ugly wrestling match, right in the middle of the throne room. Of course, Dorion won the brawl, but was soon punished for provoking his brother.  
Suddenly remembering his father's beckon, Dorion waved a brief goodbye to his younger friends and left the gardens. As he headed toward the dining hall, he was filled with anxiety. His father seemed to take every opportunity he could to introduce Dorion as the future King of Hunvel, and now that the whole town was assembled, who knew how else Kiran would embarrass his son.

Dorion entered the dining hall and he was greeted with loud cheers and claps. His face turned red as he walked past them. Lord Kiran stood talking to a member of the Council, but Hiranneth was sitting in her throne, looking concerned about something. Dorion was suddenly worried as he approached.  
Before he could get to his mother to see what was wrong, Dorion felt his father's hand on his shoulder. "My son," Kiran said to him, "it is time."

Beaming with pride, Lord Kiran turned out to all the guests in the dining hall. "My people, Dorion has proven himself a worthy son and Prince of Hunvel. As is tradition, it is my pleasure to seat him in my throne for the first time, where in the future he may live out his days justly."

The crowd went up in a cheer as Kiran ushered his son to take a seat. Dorion stood stock still staring at his father. He had not known of this tradition, but his father's radiant face finally moved him to take a seat in the large throne.  
Dorion ran his hands along the sides of the throne of the King of Hunvel. It was cast in gold and mithril. On it were inscriptions of Hunvel law and tradition too numerous to name. In the center of the back of the throne was carved a hawk, the symbol of Hunvel, its wings spread in noble command. As Dorion sat in the throne, he felt much older and wiser, and couldn't help but smile as the guests cheered for him.  
His eyes drifting around the room, Dorion noticed on the outer sides of the dining hall a dark figure suddenly retreat. He began to puzzle over the figure, but his attention was soon taken away when his father beckoned him over to be introduced to yet another Council member.

Geran looked over the rail of the balcony at his children. They were talking happily with the young Princes while a smaller girl sat primly on a bench. He couldn't bring himself to smile though, and returned to his room. He changed into his nightwear and fell asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.  
His dreams were troubled, however. He had just come back from a short hunting outing many years ago, and he had returned to his home to find his entire village burned to the ground. He stared at the ashes of what had been his home in disbelief. His entire family, gone!  
In anguish, Geran fled to his uncle's house. He was standing in his uncle's garden, holding a note and looking at the swinging gate. The note was from his brother. He had a wild surge of hope: Kiarton was alive!  
Geran was still waiting, or had been. He had kept the note for nearly twenty years, the note that said Kiarton would come back. But Geran never saw his brother again.

Becoming tired of her current location, Laurëa got up from her seat in the gardens and made her way into the dining hall. Picking up her skirts and walking briskly but deliberately, she strode down the hall toward the sounds of rejoicing. She turned a corner and abruptly collided with a dark figure.  
"Excuse you!" snapped Laurëa as she regained her composure. Her cloaked offender glared at her, grunted, and continued to slink down the hall. Perturbed, Laurëa shouted after him---she was sure only a man could be so rude. "I think you owe the daughter of the house of Leeum an apology!"  
The darkly appareled man turned slowly, eyes blazing. "Begging your pardon, young daughter of Leeum," he hissed. He then turned around and continued down the hall as before. Perhaps it was his mysterious appearance, his husky voice, or the way his eyes lingered too long on Laurëa that made her feel slightly uncomfortable as she watched him leave. She frowned, smoothed her white-blonde hair, and continued her haughty stride.

Leeum and his wife Ahéawan cheered with the congregation as Prince Dorion took his seat at the throne. Laurëa soon entered amidst the cheering, her face as sour as if she had just eaten a lemon, but still with her nose in the air. Despite her attempts for a dramatic entrance, neither of her parents noticed her until she sat down at the table beside them. Neither did they notice the strange expression that was on her face for the remainder of the evening.

Anita blushed furiously as Prince Dorion left. Gerard looked at her disapprovingly. "What were you doing in his bedroom, 'Nita?"

Anita ignored the annoying nick-name and her face went even redder, if that were possible. She then regained her composure and straightened her shoulders. "I was helping him with his gifts; he dropped one so I opened the door for him." She frowned suddenly. "Goodnight, Gerard, Ronin." Briskly leaving the gardens, she could hardly keep herself from running all the way home.

Gerard still looked reproachfully at his sister's retreating form, but a look of concern crossed his face when he looked back at Ronin. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, really," Ronin said. He sighed dramatically. "Guess we should head back inside. Wouldn't want to miss the precious Prince Dorion sitting on the royal throne for the first time," his voice dripped with sarcasm and they both laughed cheerfully. "I think I'll just go to bed now. Are you still up for some hunting in the morning?" Gerard nodded. "Alright, see you then."  
Ronin headed off away from the celebration and to the edge of Hunvel where the Elves built their homes into the trees that grew among the buildings. It was here that Ronin had built his "home away from home," a quiet retreat where he didn't have to face Dorion or his parents or anyone. It was really only a flat among a tall tree's branches, but he was proud of his handiwork.  
Climbing up through the tree's branches, he reached the flat quickly. Waiting for him there was a blanket that he slept on, his sword, which he realized wasn't a good thing to carry around but which he hadn't wanted to take to the party. There also sat his hawk, Kiarton, glossy red and brown feathers ruffled slightly by a breeze as he perched near the edge of the flat.  
"G'night Kiarton," Ronin mumbled, before settling down on the blanket and falling asleep.

Gerard sat by himself in the gardens deep in thought. After a while, he remembered that his sister wanted to join them on the hunt. She had always been weird, but she was stubborn too. With a sigh, he got up from his bench and saw Ronin not to far off. He followed his friend through the streets of Hunvel, surprised that Ronin was heading for the tree homes of the Elves. Gerard saw him go up into a tree and cocked his head. _What is he doing up there?_ Gerard climbed quietly to a low branch and saw his friend climbing up onto a flat. He gasped softly when Ronin called his bird "Kiarton." Gerard had heard much of Kiarton, his uncle, though they had never met. He wondered at how the bird got that name as he climbed farther up into the tree, making his way slowly.

Dorion embraced his father, feeling for the first time like a man, but in his heart he cursed his heritage.

Lord Kiran brushed a few long strands of brown hair from his son's face. "You should probably get to your room and open your other gifts. I notice that you already have two."  
Dorion had not realized he had brought the two heirlooms in with him. He laughed and tried to hide his embarrassment. "I thought it would be okay to open two before the party ended. Is that alright?" he questioned.  
"Of course," his father laughed. "I see no harm in it."   
After most of the guests had left, Kiran escorted Dorion to his room. "Father," said Dorion as he came to his door, "I read some of the book that I opened."  
Kiran nodded. "Yes the Book of History. One of my favorite pastimes in my early years as King was to read it."  
"Well," Dorion interrupted, "I read something about a Steward. I don't recall you saying anything about a Steward."  
Kiran became quiet and his hands shook. Dorion turned to him and his eyes met the fearful gaze of his father. Never before had Dorion seen his father so afraid about something that seemed so simple.  
"Father?"  
Kiran seemed to awake from a dream and looked sadly at his son. "There is no time for that now," he said simply, opening the bedroom door. "There is no time."  
Dorion stepped into his room and his father wished him goodnight. Dorion peered out of the doorway while his father made a hasty retreat toward his own bedroom, his face covered with one hand.  
Dorion became concerned, not knowing what to do. He had never before seen his father act this way.  
He stepped out of his room and ventured into the hall. The silence was eerie to him and he headed toward the closest room in the hall, his brother's.  
Dorion knocked on the door. "Ronin," he whispered, "Are you up?"  
No answer.  
Remembering the tree house of sorts his brother liked to frequent, Dorion made his way down to the streets of Hunvel, careful to avoid anyone he knew. It took him a minute to find the flat, but soon he came to the tree he remembered. Up in it he saw Ronin's bird, its red feathers flashing in the moon light. Dorion made his way to the tree and climbed up, having some trouble on the way up.  
Finally getting himself up on the flat, Dorion found his brother sleeping. Upon seeing the intruder, the red hawk screeched, causing Dorion to jump.  
"Shhh," he whispered to it. "I'm Ronin's brother." He felt foolish talking to a bird, but hoped he would calm it.

A screech broke through the pleasant dream Ronin was having, startling him back into reality. It took him but a moment to realize what had made the noise; Kiarton was beating his wings wildly, a sign that something had disturbed him.  
His first thought was that someone, for whatever reason, was going to harm him. His mind still hazy with sleep, he quickly grabbed his knife which lay nearby and drew it from it's sheath, spinning to face his...brother?  
"Dorion!" he shouted. "What are you doing here? You nearly scared me to death!"  
He lowered his knife from its threatening position and put it back into its sheath. Coaxing the ruffled hawk from its perch and onto his arm, he calmed it with a touch of his hand.

Dorion was slightly embarrassed. His fear of the look on his father's face had driven him up here and now he realized it was probably nothing. He looked to Ronin.  
"There's something weird going on around here, Ronin," he said softly. He straightened his back to act less fearful. "I was concerned when I came to your room and you did not answer." He eyed the red bird, then spotted Ronin's redheaded friend climbing up the tree. "What are you doing up here Gerard?"

"Is everyone here to interrupt my sleep?" Ronin asked in a joking manner when he saw Gerard approaching him from a low branch. He lowered his arm and the hawk hopped off of it down to the ground again.

"Sorry," Gerard said, a bit abashed. "I was just coming to tell you that Anita wants to join us on the hunt tomorrow. She's a little...odd, but she's good with a recurve." He eyed Ronin's hawk and stepped over to it.  
"Why is that bird called Kiarton?"  
There was a short silence and Gerard added, "That was my uncle's name. I never met him. Dad said he ran away to help..." He gasped. "The note said he would aid Hiranneth in a quest. That's your mother! Have you met Kiarton? Is he here? In Hunvel?"  
Gerard felt a wild surge of hope.

Dorion furrowed his brows. "My mother has mentioned him to us before, but Gerard," Dorion held his breathe, "he's dead. He fought honorably in the Wraith War and was killed. They even have a memorial for him on the edge of the Hunvel forest." He thought a moment. "I'll go hunting with you tomorrow and show you, if you'd like."

Gerard looked at his feet, ignoring Dorion's last suggestion. "Father always thought it such. I kept telling him Kiarton was alive. I always live on false hope." He looked up with unseen tears in his eyes. "I've always been such an optimist. I need to learn to face reality." He pulled himself upright and sat down heavily. "Well, if you want to come, I'm sure Anita wouldn't mind." He chortled, then his face was sober. "I think I would like to see this memorial." He suddenly felt very weary, the events of the day all hitting him at once. "Well, I am dead tired. I'll see you guys tomorrow." With that he stood up, did a mock bow and climbed down.

As Gerard left, Ronin looked to his brother, who was fiddling with his hands nervously. "Listen, Dorion," he said, lightly placing his hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'm sure you're just overreacting. There's nothing odd happening. Go to sleep, you've had a long day."

"Ronin, it's not my imagination." He pulled away from Ronin's hand. "Father was acting strange."  
He opened his history book---which he still had on him---to the front cover and showed Ronin the writing from Authon the Steward. "I mentioned this and he went cold. I don't think I've ever seen him like that. Why do you think he would react in such a way?"

As Ronin examined the old book of Hunvel, his mind raced with everything that had happened that day. It wasn't adding up to anything in his sleep-deprived mind. All he wanted to do was lay down and leave these troubling topics for morning.  
"Dorion, Father just gets that way sometimes," he said. "He just goes...cold. Don't let it bother you. He always has a lot on his mind."  
He suppressed a yawn to keep talking. "Things will be clearer in the morning light. We'll talk about this tomorrow." He turned his back to his brother and straitened out his blanket before lying down again.

Somewhat abashed, Dorion left Ronin's tree flat without a word. As soon as he hopped down from the last branch, he broke out into a run toward the palace. He arrived at his room and opened the door, throwing himself in and locking it. He breathed heavily. Looking around he noticed his gifts still unopened. _I'll do it in the morning, _he thought sleepily. With that, he laid down to sleep.

Laurëa walked up the cobblestone pathway her home sleepily some few steps behind her parents. They were chuckling and talking about something they had heard at the Prince's little birthday celebration. However, their merriment ceased as they approached the door.

Laurëa stepped forward to see her father reading some piece of paper that had been nailed to their front door. His eyes were troubled, increasingly so as he read on. Ahéawan was reading over his shoulder, and in her face Laurëa saw fear and dread.

"What is it?" asked Laurëa. When neither of her parents showed any sign of acknowledgement, she asked again impatiently, "Father, what is it?"

Leeum shook his head slowly, fear in his eyes, as he folded the letter in half. "Authon," he whispered. "Authon has returned."


	3. The Hunt

The next morning, Anita dressed in a brown hose with a short green tunic over top, tied with a sturdy leather belt. She attached her small sword and placed her recurve bow over one shoulder and donned her quiver of black fletched arrows. With her long red hair, she made two neat braids and wrapped them around near the back. Anita peered in the mirror and was quite pleased with her appearance. She couldn't wait to use her new bow.  
She raced down the steps of their house and made her way to the edge of the forest.  
Gerard saw Anita run up, her complexion like new milk aside from her rosy cheeks. She smiled brightly and looked behind him. "Have the Princes come yet?"

Gerard shook his head absently. "It appears they're both late." He chortled. "Even royalty isn't always punctual."

It seemed only seconds after falling asleep that Ronin awoke again to the light of a new day. He judged by the sun's rays glinting through the tree branches that he was late to meet Gerard for the hunt.  
Moving quickly, he clothed himself in his usual hunting outfit: a brown shirt over which he wore a dark green jerkin that fell to just above his knees, a pair of green hose---a little loose; they had once belonged to Dorion---and his soft brown leather boots. Around his waist he wrapped his sword belt from which hung his long fighting knife and his hunting knife. Both knives were housed in wooden sheaths that were covered in leather and bore the noble hawk emblem of Hunvel. It was fairly warm so he decided against wearing his cloak. Last of all, he strapped his drawstring quiver full of arrows with goose-feather fletching onto its familiar position on his back. With his yew bow in hand and Kiarton impatiently beating his wings nearby, Ronin climbed down the tree. The bird met him at the bottom, landing lightly on his shoulder.  
Rushing off, he found Gerard and Anita waiting at the edge of the forest. He blushed, having forgotten that the gorgeous girl was coming along.  
"Good morning," he said, smiling brightly. "Are you ready to go?"

"Indeed, but was your brother not coming?" Suddenly Anita had an irritating thought and her nose wrinkled slightly. "I hope he isn't forced to bring along that wretched girl. Can you believe she called me a coquette?" She asked Ronin earnestly.

Gerard cleared his throat. "So...where's this memorial?"

Dorion woke up early. The sun was not up yet but he felt it could very well be noon. He put on some hunting clothing: tan stockings, a dark blue tunic with silver lining, and his favorite black hunting boots. He pulled out his hunting knife given to him by his father on their first hunt together and his Elven bow. He pulled out some arrows. One was damaged slightly but he put it in anyway.  
Very quickly, he ran out the door and to the forest edge where they had decided to meet.  
Seeing his brother and his friends, Dorion walked slowly to catch his breathe. He decided to play it cool.  
"Well," he said at length, "are we ready to go?" He ignored the fact that his companions were not happy he was late.  
Dorion noticed Anita dressed for the event. _She's rather done up just to go kill something_, he thought. "Like your outfit," he said to her. "It is…fancy." He wasn't sure if fancy was the right word for it but he brushed it off.

Anita laughed. "Fancy? I suppose you could put it that way; it's just brown hose and a green tunic." She readjusted her bow and quiver and looked around. "What's this about a memorial?"

Gerard hated to have to explain it, but his sister's look made him speak. "It's a statue of...Kiarton, our uncle that we never met. He died in battle here."

Anita looked down. "Oh." She looked back up with a solemn face. "At least he died with honor."

Gerard shifted his weight uncomfortably. "So...does anyone remember where it is?" Then a thought came to him. "Ronin, you said it was at the edge of the forest, why don't we go around the wood and once we've found it start hunting?"

"No need to look for it," Dorion said. "If I remember correctly it's," he pointed north, "this way."  
He led them into a darker part of the forest where the trees were overgrown and the vines were taking over. He stepped lightly and then stopped.

"There it is," he said in awe.  
The statue was not covered in the vines that already consumed the forest floor; one could see they were generously picked away and pruned from the statue.  
The statue depicted Kiarton with a lance in hand and his eyes looking up to the sky. An inscription in the base read, "Honor was bestowed on thee, fought for right and the future to be. Kiarton, our loving friend, may the eagles soar with your soul."  
Dorion dare not touch the statue because it almost looked like it was alive. "The craftsmanship on this is excellent, I must admit."

Anita sank to her knees in wonder. Gerard gently touched the carved lance. It was made of solid gold. The real lance was certainly somewhere safe, but it looked so real!  
Anita, after remaining silent for a minute or two, spoke softly. "I always knew he looked like this." She touched the statue's hand and turned away. "Shall we carry on?"

Ronin's eyes took in the details of the statue from the tip of the lance to the inscription. He had always marveled at the Elven craftsmanship which could make even stone look alive and breathing. When Anita suggested they should carry on, Ronin nodded in agreement and broke his eyes away from the statue to look at her and the others.  
"I think we should split up, but stay within a short distance of each other. That way we can surround an animal easier when we come upon it. Anita, you can come with me if you'd like," he said casually, smiling at the ingenuity of his plan.

Gerard hid a smile discretely as Anita's face lit up. "Sure," she said brightly, turning away from the statue of her uncle. "Gerard you can get to know Dorion a little better. I have a bird whistle; I'll blow it when Ronin and I have a clear shot. Gerard has a second whistle. Father made them."

Gerard looked to his sister. "Sounds good. Try to stay in this quarter of the wood, and don't make too much sound."

Anita nodded and knocked an arrow to her bow. "Shall we then?" she asked Ronin with a grin. She barely gave him time to reply, for she was already trotting off into the woods, silent as a doe.

Gerard nudged his friend as Anita strode off. "Nice move." He winked, pulled out his hunting knife, pointed it in a random direction, and said with bravado, "Onward then!"

Ronin followed Anita who had surged ahead before he had a chance to ready himself. He nearly laughed with excitement. Moments later they were immersed in the forest and Gerard and Dorion were out of sight. _Well that worked out wonderfully_, he thought. _As long as we don't meet up later and mistake each other for targets._  
With his bow ready and an arrow held to the string, he followed Anita, barely noticing the land around him as he watched her. He smiled as the thought passed through his mind that he had never before met a girl who was so beautiful that she could distract him from hunting.

Dorion laughed as Ronin took off after Anita. _My brother likes that girl, doesn't he? _he thought to himself. _Well, we'll see about that._ He decided to let them go out on the first portion of the hunt together, but next time he would play the love card.  
"Alright Gerard, lets go." He drew his hunting knife and bow and walked meekly into the forest.  
It was a moist day in the depths of the woods. The sun was not able to reach past the large trees, creating a subtle darkness all about them. Dorion could not see his brother or Anita; they had gone west of them.  
Dorion had been creeping along for a few minutes when he heard a sudden snap in the brush. He paused, and Gerard did the same. "Is it an animal?" he asked him quietly.

Gerard nodded with glee and took out his bird whistle, blowing it softly. It sounded enough like a bird that the animal ahead of them would not run off.

Laurëa put down her quill and admired the drawing on her lap. She had been sitting on the rather dirty tree stump drawing for the past hour, and now the product of her labors was finished.  
It was quiet, sunny mornings like these when her parents were busy that Laurëa would enter the woods, find a place to sit, and draw until the sun was high in the sky. This particular morning, she had walked into a small grove of trees and began to draw, easily but carefully, the graceful aspens that surrounded her. Now she sat with her finished sketch on her lap, the sounds of the forest humming in the trees.  
Some years ago, her parents had tried to encourage Laurëa with a hobby of some sort. Singing, dancing, playing the _nandellë_ of Hunvel, none of these received much attention from Laurëa. What did, however, was drawing. She was quite skilled at it too, but hid her talents from most. "It's a peasant's hobby," she remarked once after denying her ability. Laurëa would sit through her lessons every week grudgingly, trying only to please her parents for their efforts, but hated being instructed on how to draw. Skilled artisans needed no instruction from "minstrel peasants," thus named by her. Laurëa preferred doing things her own way.  
Such as this quiet morning. Getting up from her tree stump seat, Laurëa dusted off her crimson robes and frowned at the insects that scattered beneath her feet. As she scooped up her things, she suddenly heard a strange bird-like call. Following the call, a twig snapped in the dark trees behind her. Taking a step forward, Laurëa squinted into the darkness.  
"Hello?" she called softly. "Is someone there?" A soft whisper followed her inquiry. She could almost make out a figure in the dark...  
"Show yourself!" she snapped. She did _not_ want to be snuck up on. When she received no reply, Laurëa took another few steps into the dark trees, extending her hand to keep from bumping into something.  
Suddenly, her hand touched something like fabric. Jerking her hand back, Laurëa saw movement right in front of her face. The next thing she knew, she was staring into the blade of a knife that belonged to a dirty, red-headed boy whose face was all too familiar.

Gerard had his knife at the ready, watching Dorion circle around the animal, ready to face a deer. However, he came face to face with death itself---Laurëa. He groaned and dropped his hand to his side. "Not you!" he blurted out. "Anita, Ronin! Come out, it's not a deer, it's a wild boar." He grinned at the disgusted look on Laurëa's face and glanced back at Dorion.

Anita stepped out, bow and arrow still raised. When she saw Laurëa however, she did not put it down. She simply stepped closer. "What would a queen be doing out in the peasants' woods Laurea?

Laurëa glared at the many faces that soon appeared before her, staring back with disgust.

"It's none of your business what I'm doing out here, girl!" Laurëa retorted hotly as she tried to hide her paper and quills behind her back.

Dorion stood back and watched the "children" at play. They all seemed quite disgusted with Laurëa, although he thought she seemed simply misunderstood.  
Seeing how no one said any apologies, Dorion said bowing to her, "My lady, we mistook you for prey. We are truly sorry."  
He flashed a direct smile at Ronin and looked thoughtfully at Anita. "Women should be treated with respect," he nodded at Anita and caused her to look away.  
Dorion knew that his apologies wouldn't heal things over with them, but he felt bold and kind today, in a manner of speaking.

Laurëa looked at the Prince curiously, pursing her lips. After deciding he was not mocking her, the corners of her mouth turned up in a faint smile. "It is good to see that at least one of your company has manners," sneered Laurëa to the red-heads and the other young Prince. "And quite a bit less dirt on his face as well." Admiring the disgusted look that she caused on their dirty faces, Laurëa took a step toward the elder Prince.  
"Forgive me, dear Prince," she said in a sickly sweet tone. "I did not mean to interrupt your little 'hunting party'. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall be on my way, leaving you to resume rolling in the mud with the pigs." She bowed curtly and strode off, smirking as she did so.

Ronin watched the scene with disgust. Why would his brother be so kind to that snotty girl? It was as she was walking away that he noticed she was carrying something and trying her best to hide it too.  
He moved quickly to step in front of her before she could leave. Plucking the papers from her hand before she realized what he was up to, he held them up for the others to see.  
"What have we here? I never thought you to be the artist type," he smiled and flipped through the few papers idly.

Laurëa whirled around as she felt her papers leave her hands. "Give me those!" she screeched. She tried in vain to retrieve her drawings as the rascal Prince flipped through them.

"What I do is none of your business. Return me my things!" she seethed.

Anita looked at the papers amused. "Wow, Laurëa, quite some talent there. And you said it was for the peasants." She was, in fact, deeply offended by Dorion's previous comment toward her, but she kept it discreetly hidden. Her face showed intrigue.

"Isn't it a little dangerous out here, with Authon having returned and all? The daughter of two high ranking friends of the King and Queen might want to take extra precaution. I heard he holds a grudge against the house of Hunvel," she said honestly. "I've heard he's quite dangerous. Take care Laurëa." With that, she curtsied with fluid grace and turned to exit the clearing.  
She found a pond a ways off and threw a rock into the water. "And I thought I could trust him," she muttered. "What does he see in her?"

Laurëa watched the girl stomp off with a sneer. _Who does she think she is?_ Suddenly she stopped her efforts of trying to get her papers back from the younger Prince as she took in the girl's words.  
"Wait, what did she say? Something about Authon?" she asked of the three youth around her. Ever since she saw the look on her parents' faces when they read that letter posted on their door, Laurëa had tried to pry something out of them. However, her efforts were in vain. Nothing she did could make her parents talk more about this Authon. _But the Princes might know... _"Well?"

Ronin watched as Anita left. He was tempted to chase after her and apologize for his brother, but he knew that he shouldn't have to excuse something he didn't say.  
_He made her angry and he ruined my plans!_ Ronin thought, staring hatefully at his brother, the papers n his hands now forgotten. _It's all his fault!_  
He listened to Laurëa with mild interest, wondering what she was so afraid about and who this Authon was. She seemed to expect an answer from them.  
"I haven't heard a thing about this until now," he answered. "But that's to be expected. After all, why inform the younger Prince when he will have no part in it. Dorion, what have you heard?"  
The words were stinging and his building hate of his brother's luck and charm had reached a high point.

Dorion turned to his brother to see Ronin full of rage.  
"What is this about?" he questioned his young brother.

"Oh, you want to know what this is all about?" Ronin sneered. "You mean to say you didn't intentionally drive Anita away just to make my life more miserable?"  
He paused for a moment, letting the words sink in as he studied the expression on his brother's face---calm, though he could see that his outburst had had some affect on his cool.  
"Just admit it, Dorion. You live to ruin my existence. The worst part is that you try to be my friend. As if I'm too stupid to see you as the cause of all my problems! And now you've ruined the morning that I planned to spend with Anita, but that's alright and do you know why? Because it's plain to me that she likes you more anyway," he spat the last words out as though they had left a foul taste in his mouth. Shoving past his brother without waiting for a response, he walked away.

Adrenaline rushed all through Dorion and he reacted accordingly. He leaped forward and took his brother down.  
"What makes you think it's ok for you to treat me that way?" he fumed. He placed his hands on Ronin's neck, holding him down hard enough not to choke him but to secure him.  
"I do not live to ruin you, you ruin yourself by acting like a child!"

Tears, both from anger and the pressure on his throat, filled Ronin's eyes obscuring his vision. He barely heard the words his brother was saying. Thinking fast, he kneed his brother in the stomach and shoved him away.  
Pulling himself up, he faced Dorion again. He was ready to fight, but Dorion had recovered quickly and, before Ronin saw it coming, he had thrown the first punch. It landed hard on Ronin's right cheek, causing him to reel away with the sudden pain of it.

Before things could get any worse, Gerard lunged forward to catch Ronin as he fell to the ground. Dorion glowered angrily and Ronin simply hung limply in Gerard's arms.  
Gerard held Ronin up and looked angrily at Dorion. "I hope you two are happy! Come on, Ronin, I'm taking you home. Goodbye, your Highness, your Majesty." He nodded to Laurëa, hauled Ronin over his shoulder and carried him off through the forest.


	4. To Not Belong

Anita was walking under the sun-dappled trees, head bowed and hands hanging loosely. She had put her bow away and her small sword hung safely in its sheath. "What a lovely day," she murmured with chagrin.   
She reached the statue of Kiarton and gazed up at it, surprised by its beauty even in her mood. She ran her hand over the words in the base one last time and made her way back to Hunvel  
Once inside the city gates, she sauntered thoughtfully down a long street. In truth, she knew very little of Authon. _Who is he?_ She decided to find the palace library and do some research on the mysterious Elf.  
She pushed open the heavy doors that were embossed in gold. She stared up at the rows of books that stretched up in neat shelves. Anita saw the painting on the ceiling and smiled at the Elven design. It depicted the sky, filled with white gulls, hovering over the ivory clouds that seemed so real. She pulled her gaze away to the task at hand.  
She decided to find a book herself, and after reading many, she found the one she'd looked for. It was a slightly out of date history of Hunvel. But luckily, it mentioned Authon. He had been the Steward of Hunvel. She flipped a page and found an interesting passage, near the back of the book. He had practically been pushed aside when Lady Hiranneth was restored to the throne, with Lord Kiran at her side. It explained the complaints and contradicting ideas of the Elves. Anita had often thought to herself, _Why would the Elves want two humans on the throne?_ Reading through Hiranneth's history telling of her being the only remaining member of the royal family, she could suppose why that was. She had a feeling that Authon had been one of the Elves that opposed to a mortal Queen and King, not to mention the fact that he would lose the authority in his title.  
That was when Hunvel's history got interesting. Authon had been banished when an uprising was stopped. In his absence, the title of Steward was passed on to Leeum in the event that the line of Hunvel was ended, to the disapproval of a small handful of Elves. Leeum's past was not altogether flattering.   
_So, Authon has returned? But wasn't he banished?_ Anita shook her head. She closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. She understood now. No wonder everyone was afraid! _There is no way for somebody to lose a title and be banished and not hold a grudge._ When she had mentioned Authon to Laurëa, she had sort of made that part up just as a subtle threat, but she had been right. Authon would also have a grudge against Leeum and his family.  
This changed things.  
Anita exited the library and returned to her home that was a short distance away from the palace. She opened the door to find her father sitting at the table eating noon day meal.  
He looked up, surprised. "Why back so early, Anita?" The redhead sat down and bit into a ripe apple.

"We encountered some one that we didn't expect to see," she said simply.

Suddenly, the door burst open, revealing Gerard hauling a very dazed Prince Ronin into the house. Alarmed, Anita rushed to the both of them and helped take Ronin to their spare bedroom. While placing a damp cloth on Ronin's forehead, Gerard told Anita what had happened after she left their hunting party.  
After a few minutes, Gerard stood up wearily and placed his hand on his forehead. "Siblings," he sighed. The redhead walked out of the room to find his father looking confused.  
While Gerard was explaining everything in the front room, Anita held the cloth to Ronin's head and watched his eyes slowly clear. "What were you two thinking?" she murmured softly.

Ronin realized that he must have been briefly unconscious, for when he next opened his eyes, Anita was there. Slowly, he remembered the fight. _Why was I so stupid? I could never have beaten him!_ he thought.  
Looking up at Anita, he gave a weak smile.  
"I'm guessing I didn't win," he said. He tried to get up, but Anita gently pushed him back onto the seat. "I'm okay, really. I just...I just want to leave. I don't belong here. I've never belonged here. I can't stand living in this place any longer."

Anita had one hand lightly on Ronin's shoulder. _He wants to run away?_ Anita's face was calm and solemn. She had let her hair down and the red wave spilled over one shoulder.  
"Ronin, it is your choice alone what destiny you take. If you must go, I know I won't be able to stop you." She smiled weakly and lifted her hand to rest in her lap as she sat beside him on the small bed, watching the expressions on his face as they battled.

With the others thoroughly occupied with the Princes' brawl and her drawings carelessly thrown to the forest floor, Laurëa hurried to scoop them up and brush off the dirt from them. As the fight broke up and the red-head led the younger Prince away, Laurëa surveyed the scene with a frown. The elder Prince---_what is his name again?_---was wiping some blood off his lower lip as he calmly watched his brother leave.  
"Well," said Laurëa. "I think I've had enough excitement for one day." Making sure her drawings were tightly in her grasp and out of sight, she picked up her skirts and began her brisk walk out of the forest. _My father will have some explaining to do about this Authon when I return_, she thought determinedly.

Dorion's face was expressionless as he brushed the small amount of blood from his lip.  
"Wait," he said to Laurëa, "may I walk you home, if you really must go?"

A small frown crossed Laurëa's face. She normally did things alone, _but he is royalty_, she supposed. His company would be suitable. The Prince did not wait for Laurëa's reply, but strode up to her and walked rather cheerfully, despite the fight he had just had with his brother. Laurëa did her best to hide her drawings as he turned toward her to give her an attempt at a smile.

Dorion felt awkward around her; she seemed to have high standards when it came to any human interaction. As he walked along with her, the silence of the woods crept about them.  
He decided to make small talk. "I may know some about this Authon, if you want to listen. But I can understand if you have better things to do."

Laurëa gave him a strange look. She did not want to seem too interested, but her parents hadn't given her any information on this Authon character, so she was curious about what the Prince had to say. She would have to put this carefully. "Well, my home is quite a ways off. I suppose hearing of this Authon fellow of yours is better than silence until then." She kept her nose held high and did not look at the Prince as she spoke to him. She had her dignity to preserve. "Do go on."

Dorion put his hands behind his back and strode with carefree simplicity next to her. For a while he seemed to contemplate what he might say, and how he might say it. He noticed Laurëa look at him from the corner of her eye; she looked annoyed.  
"Oh yes," he said as if forgetting what he was doing, "Authon...the former Steward of Hunvel. It's a rather interesting story."  
Dorion smiled to himself thinking Laurëa knew nothing about his lack of knowledge in this subject. Just the other day he was asking himself the same question.  
He pulled out the history book heirloom he often kept on him and began to browse through it.  
"Ah yes...Authon son of Timadore, Steward of Hunvel. He came into power," he flipped the next page, "a week after the King was mysteriously murdered. He had reined in nobility for 300 years when the rumors of the King's daughter, Hironia having a child came about. But Hironia had run away before she was wed to any Elf, so many wondered what had happened."  
Dorion stopped and looked at Laurëa. She looked smug, as usual, but she seemed to be absorbing his every word. "In the year of Hiranneth's arrival, Authon was present and saw her come with her new friends. He was filled with rage when he saw the heir of Hunvel was half human, half Elf."  
Dorion stopped in mid walk. He looked down at his feet and sighed.  
"What must the Elves think of me?" His hands shook as he looked down at them. "I know nothing of the Elves that should be ruling Hunvel."

Dorion shut his book and cleared his throat, fighting the tears that came to his eyes. "If you will excuse me, Laurëa, I really must get back."  
As Dorion walked away, his spirits were definitely low. _I do not belong here. Not at all._

Laurëa's eyebrows furrowed as the Prince left in a hurry. _Hmmm. This Authon seems to have a complicated history. But I do not know much more know than I did before,_ she thought. As her eyes drifted to the retreating form of the Prince, she remembered the old book he had been reading from. _I must get my hands on that book,_ decided Laurëa. _And what's more, I must learn the Prince's name._

Dorion ran through the palace gates and shut them behind him. He breathed deeply, trying to keep in his pain. He looked around the place and saw many Elves tending to the gardens. They worked so carefully and they seemed to glow. One woman looked up and smiled at him. He stared at her for a moment, then she turned her blue eyes from him and continued with her pruning on her rose bush. Dorion thought_, I wish I were an Elf, that I glowed in that way. _  
He walked by quickly and into the halls where he ran into his mother.  
"Hello Dorion," she said while giving him a kiss on the cheek.  
Dorion managed a smile.  
"Do you know where Ronin is? I haven't seen him in a while," added the Lady Hiranneth.  
Dorion thought a moment. Ronin was probably angry at him and was hiding out. "I don't know where he is, Mother," he said truthfully. "We did go hunting, but then…"  
Hiranneth laughed, filling Dorion with joy at the sound.  
"I know," she said knowingly, "You and Ronin got in a fight. You really should mind your brother."  
Dorion looked down in shame. "I know Mother, I'm older and I should know better. Seeing how I'm heir and all, you'd think I'd know."  
Hiranneth pursed her lips. "You may be the heir, son, but you are not yet a man." She paused as Dorion frowned. "You are still a boy, a boy who is searching for his manhood."  
As his mother left for the gardens, Dorion understood what she meant, but he was still hurt by her comment. Feeling that he owed it to his mother, he decided to go look for Ronin.

Ronin lay still, letting the pain in his body slip away as he focused his thoughts on the matter at hand.  
_If I ran away, would anyone miss me?_ He thought of his friends, the Elves he had come to enjoy the company of over the years. But lately they had seemed to want to spend less and less time with him; they were all becoming a part of the adult society and most of them were apprentices to certain crafts already. Then he thought of Gerard. His red-headed friend would be missed dearly, but Ronin knew he couldn't invite him along. Gerard had a happy life and a caring family, and he couldn't ask his friend to leave it all behind.  
He looked up and caught Anita's eyes, staring for a moment. "You won't tell anyone, will you?" he asked softly. "Not even your father?"

Anita sighed and nodded. "I won't. But I don't see what good it will do." She stood up and held out a hand to Ronin. She helped him up and looked into his troubled face. He stood around an inch taller than her, and she noticed for the first time how incredibly blue his eyes were.  
She suddenly wrapped her arms around him and embraced the Prince tightly, looking over his shoulder with tears. "Just don't..." She closed her eyes and spoke in barely more than a whisper. "I'll miss you Ronin."

Ronin gently kissed the top of Anita's head before pulling away from her embrace. "We'll meet again, I know it," he said, wiping a tear from her face.

He left the house quietly through the back door, careful to avoid seeing Gerard or his father as he went. He headed first for the palace, feeling a sadness for the home that had been his for so long as he crept through the halls. He took a few things from his room and was about to leave when he spotted a piece of parchment sitting on his desk. Thinking quickly, Ronin took a quill and hastily scribbled a note to his parents, saying how much he loved them but how he just needed a while to himself. Signing the note solemnly, he then headed for his tree house to gather the remainder of his things. Kiarton was waiting for him there, a dead rat grasped in his claws.  
"Don't follow me, alright? I can't risk being seen by anyone," he said to the bird. Though his tone was light, it did little to mask his sadness.  
He pulled on his grey-green cloak and made sure his weapons were still on hand and in good condition. Grabbing a small bag that lay nearby, he filled it with some traveling food and a handful of coins. Then he climbed back down the tree and surveyed the land of Hunvel.  
"I'm leaving you forever," he whispered to no one in particular. "I'm not coming back."  
Then he turned his back on the town and headed out into the forest, not looking back.

Dorion wandered into Ronin's room looking for him, though knowing in the back of his mind his brother would not be there. As he predicted, Ronin's room was empty, but a small piece of parchment on his brother's desk caught Dorion's eye. Picking it up, Dorion read the note appalled. _He's leaving, all because of me?_  
Dorion didn't know what to do. He walked away from the room and into his own. He sat down on his bed and pondered a while. His eyes did not move from the floor; his hands remained white and clenched.  
After what seemed like an eternity, he spoke aloud to himself. "I am a boy, nothing more than that. If anything, I was being the child in all this." He bit his lip. "Hunvel does not need a child for a King."  
He stood up and started to pack a bag of things and food. He grabbed his cloak and placed it on his bed. "I'm going to leave this place."

Anita felt horrible; she longed to confide in someone, but she had promised not to tell. When Gerard returned, she put a hand to her head and told her brother halfheartedly that Ronin was better; he had left already. It was only the early afternoon, but suddenly Anita felt incredibly tired. She shuffled to her room and fell into a troubled sleep.

Gerard had noticed his sister's strange behavior, but just waved it away. He ran a hand down his cheek and looked out the window up at the blue sky. What would he do now? He decided to take a nap.

After only a short amount of time, Gerard blinked his eyes open. He had had a strange dream about the hunting trip, only an arrow had struck Anita in the back. He shuddered and felt the urge to make sure she was okay. He opened the door to her bedroom quietly and saw that she was still asleep. He pulled up a chair and sat down to watch her face. _Why did she act so strangely earlier?_ Suddenly, Anita mumbled something, rather loudly. This was usual for her, as she spoke often while she slept. But this time, he heard the words clearly. "Ronin…don't leave! Can't...tell a soul." She stirred restlessly, and Gerard put a hand to his mouth.  
"No wonder!" he whispered, leaving his sister's bedroom in a hurry. "I have to go after him!"  
Later on, Gerard thought of the note he had left his sister and father as he strolled quickly through the dense forest, with a pack on his back and sword strapped to his belt.

Anita stirred and awoke suddenly. She took in the sight around her and remembered that day's events. "How long have I been asleep?" she asked herself. She stumbled down the hall and into her brother's room; she had the strangest dream to tell him. But when she saw the note on his bed, she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach. She scanned it quickly. "No! I must have told him in my sleep!" She closed her eyes for a moment and rushed off to gather her things.

"Gerard!" She had been running after him all this time.

Her brother turned around and shook his head. "Anita, you must go home! What will---"

"Father say? What difference does it make if one of us or two of us are gone? We have to bring him back! I'm sorry I didn't tell you...I promised."

Gerard walked beside her with his head lowered. "You did the right thing, 'Nita." Anita nodded mutely.  
"Come on, sis, let's go bring your true love back." He always managed to pull a joke from the darkest day.

Anita jabbed him lightly in the ribs and quickened her pace. "Alright, let's find him. Together."


	5. Midnight Crusades

Night had come quickly for Dorion. He sat in his room for the remainder of the twilight hours, then decided it was time to leave. He picked up his things and made his way outside. The night air was chilling to him and he wrapped himself tighter in his cloak.  
Though it would take him longer, Dorion decided he would have a better chance of not being seen if he traveled around the city toward the gates of Hunvel. Creeping down the streets as silently as he could, staying in the shadows, Dorion headed out of the city.  
On his way, he came upon a dark but extravagant house that he had never seen it before. What caught his eye was the engraving upon the large door of the home. "I believe that's the mark of the Steward," Dorion said to himself quietly, remembering the design he had seen on Laurëa's cheek while walking her home. As he was observing the door, Dorion tripped over the root of a tree. Cursing himself for his clumsiness, Dorion crept on as silently as he could.

Laurëa awoke suddenly and looked around her room to see what had stirred her from sleep. It was still dark; the candle beside her bed had long since burnt out.  
Laurëa then heard a rustling noise outside. _Wind woke me up_, she decided. But wind was not supposed to sound like boots crunching gravel...Warily, Laurëa climbed out of her large bed and crept toward her window, peeking through the curtains. Vaguely, she saw a dark figure creeping in the darkness, looking as though they were---  
A short gasp escaped Laurëa's lips as she looked closer. _What on earth...?_ It must have been her imagination, or the way the moonlight was playing off the trees, because that dark figure almost looked like...  
_The Prince?_ Laurëa stared curiously for another moment, then strode to her door and opened it.  
"Hold it right there!" she called out to him. "I demand an explanation this instant, Prince!"

Dorion froze. His body was now stiff and his hands went immediately to his knife. But the voice of a girl filled his ears. He turned slightly, and looked at her. It was Laurëa.  
"Why do you call me Prince?" he wondered, ignoring her demand. He realized suddenly that perhaps she did not know his name. Feeling foolish, he turned to her, letting the moonlight fully highlight his face.  
"I am Dorion, Prince of Hunvel. But no longer."

"I don't care who you are," spat Laurëa as she strode over to the Prince. "What are you doing out here in the middle of the night, sneaking around like some sort of criminal?" She glared at him for a moment, then frowned as his words sunk in. "And what do you mean, you're not the Prince any longer?"

Dorion glared at her, "Well, if you must know..." He cleared his throat and spoke firmly. "I deserve not the throne of Hunvel, nor do I want it. I'm leaving, and I don't plan on coming back." He stood up straight, holding his ground against the young girl's penetrating stare. "Perhaps it is best you do not speak of this to anyone."

"Of course I'm going to tell someone. You cannot just up and leave; you are the heir to the throne!" Laurëa exclaimed. As she stood there glaring at him, she shivered in the cold of the night, suddenly realizing her rather underly-dressed state. She shivered again. "I don't care if you deserve it or not. That is who you are, and you are _not_ leaving," Laurëa said firmly.

"I _am_ leaving," he said softly, trying to keep his cool. "What are you going to do about it? Telling someone will only give me a chance to run farther and faster. Then what would you get? You would be left here all alone, no one to talk to my brother's little friends, and they don't seem to fond of you. You'll have no one."  
Dorion thought that in some way he was the only one that seemed to understand her.

"How _dare_ you talk about me in such a manner!" Laurëa exclaimed. "Do you have any idea how---" She tried to continue shouting, but the Prince Dorion's hand suddenly clamped firmly across her mouth.

"Stop it!" he yelled at her from behind his teeth. "Do you want to wake all of Hunvel?"  
His hand became lose as he realized he was being rather forceful. He suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes.  
"Please," he pleaded with her, "If you keep quiet, you can come with me if you want. I'll protect you."

Laurëa jerked away from Prince Dorion's grasp. "_Come with you_? Oh, that's rich," she sneered. "Have fun _protecting_ me. Now if you don't mind, I think my parents should like to be informed about the run-away Prince."

Dorion felt the very serious pressure arise within him. His heart pounded with every step she took toward her house. He thought briefly about what his actions may bring, but being a boy---er, _man_, he thought gruffly---but he decided it was worth the risk. Before she could get inside, he quickly grabbed Laurëa's tiny frame of a body and took her close. He whispered in her ear, "You _will_ come with me! But first I'll let you get your things."  
He stepped into the house of Leeum, Laurëa still in his grasp. She wiggled fiercely in his arms, but his strength proved to be to much for her. Once insider her room, he opened her clothing drawers and took a few dresses out.  
"Now," he said with his hand over her mouth still, "pack it. Dawn is near."

Laurëa squirmed, kicked, and pounded Prince Dorion on the back, trying to escape from her captor. When he finally set her down roughly and shoved clothes at her, Laurëa was about to yell for someone when she saw the mad, desperate look in the Prince's eyes.  
Scowling, Laurëa began to fold the few dresses he had flung at her into a small bag. When she came to an old, hideous, purple robe, she sneered in disgust. "If you are going to drag me into the forest, at least give me something proper to wear," she spat at the Prince.

Dorion looked at Laurëa with anger in his tired eyes. He took off his cloak, not letting his eyes off the girl, and handed it to her. "Here," he said with little emotion. "I don't need it too much." He was definitely getting annoyed by her attitude.

Laurëa looked at the cloak with curious disgust for a moment, then finally took it from the Prince slowly. "Hardly what I'd call proper," she muttered under her breath. "Now," she said louder to him, "would you mind telling me what this crazy crusade is about?"

Dorion crossed his arms, his eyes still full of anger and exhaustion. "I suppose I just feel out of touch with my role in life. Is that enough information for you?"

"Enough information to pick me up and haul me into the wilderness? Hardly. Next time you have an identity crisis, remind me to stay out of it," Laurëa hissed.

"All right, _your majesty_, I'm tired of your crap! You need to grow up!" Dorion seethed. His voice rose as he spoke but he suddenly realized Laurëa's parents were still in the house and could hear the commotion and wake up at any moment.

Laurëa scowled at the Prince. "I suppose you know _all abou_t growing up, you---"

Dorion had had about enough. He scooped her up in his arms and threw her over his shoulder. He had managed to wrap his cloak around her face while he made his way out the door, muffling her screams of protest. Despite this, he went on, with no second thoughts. He had decided to continue, even if it meant taking her with him. As the sun began to peek its head over the valley of the mountainous parts of Hunvel, Dorion and Laurëa headed off away from the city, "romantically" into the sunrise, though the daughter of Leeum was kicking and screaming the whole way.

Ronin walked until he felt he could go no further. He knew he was nearing the edge of another town; the lights were twinkling in the distance, but he thought it would be best to stay in the forest for the night.   
He gathered some moss and leaves to make a bed and covered himself with his cloak. He slept lightly, his mind full of thoughts. _Does anyone know that I'm gone? Are they worried? How far do I need to go to leave my past behind?_  
It was still dark when he awoke. He packed up his things and ate a bit of food from his pack. Shouldering his bag once again, he continued walking towards the town ahead.

Anita and Gerard walked in a dismal silence. It was dark now and they both were feeling guilty about leaving their father with little to no explanation. "We had to come after Ronin," Gerard reassured both of them, answering the unanswered question. "He doesn't know anything about the real world." Gerard answered the unspoken question. Anita nodded mutely.  
Gerard looked at the sky and smiled. "I haven't seen the stars so bright in a long time." 

Anita chuckled softly. "You always manage to find some humor in everything, brother mine."

Gerard looked at her, hurt. "It wasn't a joke, sister mine," he said, raising an eyebrow.

Anita just smiled and looked up. The stars were very bright, shining and sewed to the velvet lining that was the sky. It went on so far. "What's going to happen Gerard?" Anita asked softly.

He pulled at an earlobe thoughtfully. "Usually, just to annoy you, I'd say, 'I don't know, I'm not a prophet.' But I think everything's going to work out. We'll save the Prince and talk him out of this silly little adventure, and then you can marry him and we'll all live happily ever after," he added brightly.  
Anita smacked him playfully.

There was sweat glistening on Ronin's forehead as he stumbled into the inn. The walk had been farther than he had estimated, and the ground had sloped gently upward to the town. From behind a tall counter, the innkeeper looked him over.  
"I need a room to stay in for a few days," Ronin said, a bit unsettled by his gaze.  
The innkeeper nodded and they worked out a suitable price. Ronin continued to feel the man's eyes upon him, and it wasn't until the room had been paid for and he was about to head to it when he found out why.  
"Have you been in these parts before?" the man asked. "You looked familiar."  
_Oh no, don't tell me he knows that I'm a Prince! _ "No," Ronin said, thinking quickly and wishing he had been better prepared for questions. "I…I'm from Rohan. I've never been here before."  
The man nodded again, and though he looked as if he didn't believe a word, he asked no further questions. Ronin escaped to his room, shutting the door behind him and flopping down on the small bed.

Despite his exhaustion, Ronin felt restless. He sat on the bed for while before he began to pace the floor nearby, running a hand through his hair. _What kind of mess have I gotten myself into? _  
He sat on the bed again, not sure what to do. His body was tired and yet his mind was racing, making him fidget where he sat. Finally, he left his room for the inn's bar and eating area, where he figured a snack might calm his nerves.  
He sat down at a table near the wall, scarcely taking in the loud and joyous people around him until a barmaid appeared before him.  
"Ale to drink?" she asked, a sweet smile on her face.  
"Oh, no thanks," Ronin answered, looking away.  
'Nonsense," she persisted. "You look like you need a good ale to drown your sorrows in."  
She disappeared for a moment before returning with a large mug in hand. She plopped in on the table in front of him.  
"Go on," she said. "What's there to harm?"  
Ronin gave in. He raised the mug and gave her a weak smile before taking a drink.

Anita and Gerard were nearing a village, for lights sparkled in the distance. They had walked quickly for three straight hours out of pure determination. They had rested little in their hurry, and Gerard noticed that Anita was growing more agitated by the second.  
"What if someone recognizes him?" she asked again on their way towards the small town in the distance..

"Calm down, Anita. He might be naive, but he has a good head on his shoulders." His tone ended any further comments from Anita and they marched on in silence.  
They reached the town in dim light and decided to check in at the first inn they found. They got a room without delay and Anita neatly put her things on the crude bedside table. She inspected the room thoroughly and sat down with an approving sigh.  
"I'm hungry." Gerard complained.

"Then let's go get some supper." Anita advised coolly. Gerard shrugged and followed her out into the hall Just then, they saw three dark figures saunter around the corner. One was a small, thin man that greatly resembled a weasel. Another looked savage and weathered; he was tall and rugged, with a nasty scar above his left temple. The third was a stately looking Elf, with oddly greasy hair.

"And I always thought Elves were squeaky clean." Gerard muttered. 

Anita watched the two men and lone Elf curiously as they found their room and stepped quietly inside, locking the door behind them. "What do you think they're up to?" she asked Gerard softly.

"Nothing good by the looks of it," he answered suspiciously.

There was an odd taste in Ronin's mouth and a strange emptiness in his head. The mug was nearly drained and sat on the table in front of him. The pretty barmaid sat in a chair next to him. They had been talking for a while now, meaningless conversation, and Ronin had been careful never to reveal who he was. The ale was getting to his head, however, and he wasn't sure how long his facade would last.  
"How did you get that bruise on your cheek?" the barmaid asked when Ronin turned and she saw it in a better light.  
"Oh," he said, fingering the spot where Dorion had punched him. "I was fighting...for love and honor!"  
She giggled at this, though Ronin did not realize it sounded like nothing but drunken nonsense even though it was close to the truth.  
"My shift is about up," she said. "But maybe I'll catch you later. What did you say your name was again?"  
"Ronin. _Prince_ Ronin, actually," he answered, a proud and stupid smile on his face.  
"Yes," she said. "The Prince."

The barmaid left the table and hurried to one of the rooms. She knocked three times and was called inside. Stepping in, she shut the door quickly behind her.  
"What information do you have for me, Tirithiel?"  
She bowed before replying. "I have been serving drinks here for a little more than a month, my master. So far, there has been nothing," she stared down at the floor rather than face her master.  
"You are keeping something back. And you have no need to. Our associates are out in the bar right now. They saw you flirting with that young boy. Who is he?"  
"H-he claimed to be a prince. But that was after an ale, sir! I don't think he had his wits about him."  
"Keep an eye on him, Tiri."  
"Yes sir," she said, bowing deeply again.  
"Good," said Authon, nodding to the door. "You may go now."


	6. Tirithiel

Anita and Gerard rounded a corner and stopped dead. "It's Ronin!" Gerard whispered, relieved, as he spotted his friend sitting at a table alone.

"I can see that," Anita answered peevishly, yet she failed to keep the happiness out of her voice. He wasn't dead!  
They sauntered forward, dodging drunken patrons and stepping around overturned chairs. "Ronin, I'm so glad we found you!" Anita said to him as she sat down next to him. She flicked away her red bangs and shook her head at the dazed look in the Prince's eyes. "Ronin, what have you been doing?" she asked in a concerned voice. She knew already however, as she spotted a large, empty mug sitting in front of the Prince. "Oh no," she sighed.

Gerard sat down at the table heavily. "Can't leave you alone for one second, can we old boy?" he muttered.

Anita held a hand to Ronin's forehead. "He's heating up. He must have downed it all in three gulps."

Ronin put a puzzled look on his face when his two friends came over.  
"You know, I have a couple of friends who look just like you guys," he said, smiling. He laughed at the look that came across their faces. "I'm only kidding! It's so nice of you to join me! Here let me order you an ale, Gerard, you'll love it! I'd get you one, too, Anita, but you're a little too young."

Gerard leaned forward, almost interested, but Anita put a firm hand on his shoulder. "You're only a year older than me, Ronin, and Gerard, I'd cut off my hand before I would let you drink that poison.

"I wasn't really serious, sister dearest," Gerard said, peeling her hand from his shoulder.

Anita turned once more to the tipsy prince. "What did you tell that barmaid?"

Gerard looked puzzled. "What barmaid?"

Anita smirked. "I'm surprised you didn't notice her, brother dearest," she mocked. "She was quite a pretty thing, but I guess your oblivious side got in the way."

Gerard looked hurt, yet slightly interested. "Oh, that barmaid," he said with a dramatic wave of his hand.

"Well she asked me for my name, so I told her," Ronin answered, obviously not seeing the seriousness of that revelation. "I think she rather fancied me, but of course I would have to refuse her. I'm too in love with you, Anita!"  
Without waiting for a response, he stood up and pulled his ornate room key from his pocket.  
"Shall we head back to my room? All of a sudden, I'm feeling rather tired. And I'm sure you two must be as well, chasing after me like you did," he laughed loudly, drawing the eyes of a few men sitting nearby.

Anita gasped as Ronin stood up.

"Honestly. You mean you didn't know?" Gerard blurted. Anita was silent. When Gerard saw the disapproving expressions of a few gruff-looking men a few tables over, Gerard took Ronin by the shoulders and smiled knowingly. "One too many ales. This way friend."  
The trio walked on to Ronin's room, with Anita looking rather stunned, the Prince grinning goofily, and Gerard shaking his head coolly.  
Once inside the room, Anita sat down in a wicker chair, hands in her lap and eyes staring blankly.  
"Oh really, come off it!" Gerard waved his hand at her, clearly irritated.

Ronin sat down on his bed when he got in the room, tossing the key onto the bedside table.  
"If you'll both excuse me, I think I'm going to sleep for a while," he said. He flopped backwards rather dramatically and fell asleep almost instantly.

Tirithiel left her master's room, hearing the familiar click of the door being locked behind her. She was debating in her mind whether or not she should tell the kind boy that her master had taken an interest in him. If he was the Prince of Hunvel, surely her master had plans to kill or capture him, and if he wasn't, her master wouldn't take the news too kindly. She walked back to the bar, mulling it all over.  
"Tiri!" someone called to her. She looked over and saw it was one of Authon's associates, obviously drunk despite the fact that he was supposed to be on guard duty.  
"What is it?" she asked, annoyed that he had to deal with her.  
"That boy you were talking to left a minute ago with some others. A boy with red hair and a girl too."  
"Oh, him. Master said he doesn't care about him," she lied craftily.  
"Right then."  
"Listen, why don't you head back to your room and I'll take over your guard shift?"  
He nodded gruffly and left, taking his mug of ale with him as well.  
Tirithiel sat down at a table and idly watched the customers of the inn eating and talking merrily, wondering if she should attempt to find the "Prince" Ronin and warn him, or to just go about her own business until she saw him again.

Gerard sighed and turned to Anita. "Can you stay here? I'm going to go look around for that barmaid. She…uh, might be a spy of Authon's."

Anita just shook her head. "_Right_." The word was sarcastic and very drawn out.

Gerard just kissed her on the cheek and smiled his charming little half smile. He locked the door behind him and sauntered around the inn. He happened to notice a pretty girl---_woman_, he thought dreamily---sitting at a table. Though he didn't know if she were the barmaid in question, he sat down across from her.  
"Do you mind if I sit here?" he asked smoothly, assuming his half smile once more.

"Yeah, go ahead," Tirithiel said, not sparing a glance at who had asked. She waved her hand absent-mindedly as though to grant him permission while at the same time brush off his company.  
_Now what about that boy with the red hair?_ she thought. _I wonder who that could be. Haven't seen many red heads at all for a long while._  
Her eyes scanned the crowd before her as she thought and she brushed a stray piece of her light brown hair behind her ear.

Gerard tilted his head and thanked a passing barmaid as she placed a bowl of thick stew before him. He picked up a spoon and stirred it around, looking at the girl across from him; she was peering busily around the room.  
"Are you looking for someone?" he asked as he ate a stringy piece of meat.  
There was no answer; maybe she hadn't heard. Gerard shrugged it off. "My name is Geran, by the way," he lied. He had no reason for subterfuge with the pretty barmaid, however his father's name simply slipped out.  
"Do you have a name, or are you simply called 'Hey, miss'?" he asked with a small smile. _Let's see if we can get her to talk,_ he thought to himself.

It was only after she realized that the boy who had sat next to her was talking to her that Tirithiel looked over. She nearly gasped, but managed to remain cool. _He has red hair! It's got to be him._ It took her a moment to register what he had said.  
"Yes, I do have a name," she said, mildly annoyed. "I'm Tirithiel. Do you come to this bar often, Geran, trying to court young girls? I've never seen you here before, though I do normally work the early shift. Most of the flirts don't come until later."  
She smiled warmly, but there was a challenge and a threat in her words.

"Court?" Gerard exclaimed mildly. "Idle chit chat has changed I see."   
He took a drink and smiled. "I suppose a country bumble like me doesn't belong in such a big bar. I saw you feeding my sick friend ale. It's not good for his condition. He honestly thinks he's a Prince, you know?" He raised his mug again and smirked inside of it, but when he set it down, his face was earnest and concerned. "Please don't tell anyone he's here. He has a bad reaction to ale; I wouldn't want to scare off you patrons."

"So he is sick then? He looked fine to me, but I suppose I am not a healer. Just a common barmaid," she said as she smirked to herself, remembering the time she had gone under the guise of a healer once again to gather information for Authon. "Please tell him that I hope he gets better soon."  
Her words were sincere enough, but in the back of her mind she wondered if she really trusted this boy. _Whether I do or not, I have been commanded to gather information on this "Ronin." Although he didn't seem drunk enough to imagine he was a Prince._

Gerard thought back to what she had said earlier. "'Court young girls.' It's strange that you say that, for you look about my age. You make it sound as if I was some venerable old man." He laughed deeply and held out his hand. _She probably won't even shake it,_ he thought, but he extended it jovially anyhow. "It's nice to meet you Tirithiel."

"Looks can be deceiving. That is one thing I have learned working here," she said, and she looked questionably at his hand. Finally, she extended her own and shook his briefly before pulling back.  
_You should leave now,_ a voice in the back of her head told her. _Don't get too attached!_ But she silenced it quickly.

Gerard chuckled, then he saw a hesitant look on the girl's face and cocked his head. "Is something wrong?" Gerard asked quietly.

"Oh no, nothing," Tirithiel answered, now obviously flustered. "I was just thinking that it was getting late and perhaps I should be heading back to my room or something."

Gerard frowned. "Yes, I see. You have your work to be getting to," he said.

Tirithiel blushed. "Well, what I meant was that my father would be disappointed if he saw me sitting alone with a boy, and he has friends who come here often. They would pass the word along. So it was nice chatting with you and all, but I must go." She got up from her seat, but waited for just a moment, to see if he would stop her.

"That's a shame." Gerard said, truthfully disappointed. "I'd ask you to stay, but I don't want to get you in trouble. Nothing worse than an angry fath---" He couldn't bring himself to finish the phrase, as he felt a wave of guilt and homesickness wash over him.   
Gerard suddenly grinned. "I thought about kissing you goodbye on the cheek, but I remembered that it's the thought that counts so I just thought about it. It's been wonderful, good luck with your father and nice hair!" He said the mouthful in a comic spiel and ended with a curt salute, then kissed her hand and spun around to walk rather quickly back to his room.

The morning sun rose slowly over Hunvel, as though dreading the painful discoveries that daylight would bring. The unknowing Elves of Hunvel woke with the sun normally, busying themselves with their cheerful garden work and crafts.  
Hiranneth arose to the sound of birds, but she felt something was out of place. She wrapped herself in a soft white robe and walked out onto her bedroom balcony. Kiran was still asleep in bed, but as the sunlight streamed onto his face he stirred and muttered something. Hiranneth turned and watched as he covered his head, still grunting about the sunlight. Her gaze was suddenly taken off her husband and onto an Elf maid that was hastening toward the palace. In her worry, the Elf did not notice the Lady Hiranneth watching curiously from her balcony. The maiden stopped short just before entering the living quarters of the palace.  
"What am I to do?" the Elf wondered sadly under her breathe.  
Hiranneth made her way down the stairs and opened the front door. The Elf was surprised at her sudden appearance.  
"My Lady…."  
"Yes?" Hiranneth asked softly.  
"When I went to clean your sons' rooms, they were not there."  
Hiranneth did not think anything of it at first, "They probably went out to hunt. They did the other day."  
The Elf maid looked down. "My Lady, their beds looked as though they had not been slept in. I've inquired everywhere and heard nothing of their whereabouts. And what I've heard about Authon---"  
Hiranneth stopped her. "You will not speak of him right now. It is a rumor, and nothing more."  
The maid became restless. "But my Lady, please! I found this." She handed Hiranneth something small and then walked off quickly.  
Hiranneth held up the small object in her hand; it was a folded paper note. Unfolding the note, Hiranneth began to read Ronin's scribbled handwriting. Her eyes widened and tears began to fill in them as she ran up the stairs back to her bedroom. Kiran was still mumbling under the blankets when she rushed into the room. Hiranneth ran over to the bed and shook her husband. "Kiran, the children! They are gone!"

The city was in full search of anything regarding the missing Princes. Despite the reassurance that the most thorough procedures were being taken to find them, Hiranneth had been edgy all morning, worried senseless about her sons. Kiran was just as apprehensive not knowing the whereabouts of his children, but he was trying to keep his composure as much as he could.

Too troubled to eat, Hiranneth was pacing about the palace gardens that morning while Kiran watched uneasily nearby, talking with a guard of the city gates.

Hiranneth's face momentarily brightened when she saw Leeum and Ahéawan heading her direction. However, her smile soon faded. Their steps were heavy, and their eyes downcast.

As Ahéawan approached, Hiranneth could see she her face was tear-stained and worry-stricken. She looked as though she had aged twenty years overnight. "Hiranneth," Ahéawan said as she approached, "my Laurëa is gone...She's gone."  
Leeum held Ahéawan as she cried onto his shoulder, his face also looking aged. "Her room was askew and some clothing were taken," he said slowly. "I did not see any other signs of a struggle; I would have woken up if she screamed…" He looked helpless as he searched the Lord and Lady's faces.

Kiran looked at Leeum strangely. "Do you think your daughter is with our sons?

Leeum pursed his lips and nodded a slow but simple yes and returned to comforting his wife.

Geran came running up the gentle slope towards his King and Queen. "My children are gone as well, your Majesties. They left this," he said breathlessly, his red hair askew and looking as though he had just awoken.

Hiranneth grabbed the note unthinkingly. She read it aloud, in a cracking voice, eyes filled with tears. "Father, Ronin has run away. I have left to follow him, for I am worried for his safety, but as his most trusted friend, I couldn't tell anyone. If Anita follows me, don't worry. I'll look after her." It was scrawled hurriedly in black ink, and as the Queen read it, her voice faltered. As Geran just shook his head, Hiranneth let out a cry of despair. "Why would they leave us?"


	7. The Malice of Authon

Dorion put Laurëa down on the forest floor out of pure exhaustion. After three hours of carrying the girl over his back his strength was nearly spent.  
"Alright," he said, catching his breath, "you sit here. I'll get us some food."  
He wandered to his pack and got out a dried loaf of bread and fruit. He turned around to see a very agitated young individual giving him the glare only women can give.  
Dorion smirked, handed her a piece of bread, and sat down across from her. Once the silence was overwhelming, he spoke up. "It's nice out today, isn't it?"

Laurëa ignored the Prince's peace offering of food. She would not touch anything his vile hands had prepared, she vowed. The sounds of early morning in the forest echoed around them as neither of them said anything. Laurëa smirked. Silence she could handle.  
The silence was finally broken by the Prince, as she knew it would be. _Pathetic_, thought Laurëa. _He lasted a minute only to talk about the weather._  
"I suppose," Laurëa sneered. "That is, of course if you don't mind the sun glaring too brightly or the birds chirping too loudly or your company braying like a mule." It was the Prince who had decided to pick her up and haul her into the forest. Laurëa decided she might as well have a little fun. _He'll have me home by noon,_ she thought wickedly.

Dorion choked on his bread. _Mule!_  
He brushed that comment off and laid down his food, situating himself directly across from her. He wanted to make a complete connection. This was going to be fun, taming the beast within.  
"That's a lovely observation," he lied, "I've never been called a mule. You know, mules are hardy creatures. They are very good at working and maintaining the land on which our food is produced." Dorion twisted his mouth in what he hoped was more than a precarious grin.

Laurëa smirked at the irritated look behind the Prince's smile. "That may be so, but I've never thought of them good for anything but hard labor. They are stubborn, single-minded, loud, ungrateful for what they are given, have quite a loathsome stench, and," her eyes glittered maliciously as she looked pointedly at Dorion, "they are half-breeds. Both donkey and horse, but possessing qualities of neither."

Dorion froze at her last comment. His hands became clammy and cold and sweat began to appear on his forehead. But he had to keep his composure; she couldn't win. The triumphant and smug look on her face as they stared each other down finally made him avert his eyes.  
"I suppose half breeds aren't that great, are they…," he muttered to himself. He stood up, stretching out a bit and cracking his neck.  
"Well, miss, I will leave you now. I will continue on my own, but you can go back home if you'd like. But know there are terribly frightening things in the woods, many terrible things. I just hope you make it out alive." With that he bowed cheerily to her. "Good-bye Laurëa."  
He picked up his things and walked briskly off toward the general direction of a small valley, wondering if she really had the nerve to go back home after all this. Was he being stupid for giving her this chance?

Laurëa sneered at Prince Dorion as he stomped off into the denser forest. _He'll be back,_ she thought sourly. She remained sitting on the forest floor, in as dignified a position as she could muster, glaring after the Prince. After a minute or so, a worried look crossed Laurëa's face when a sudden thought entered her mind. _He's got my clothes!_ She looked around her quickly, the absence of her things proving what she had dreaded to be true.  
Grumbling at having to concede this victory to the Prince, Laurëa got up, dusted off her night dress, and strode off in the direction Prince Dorion had left. When she thought she was within hearing distance of him she called out, "Prince! Return me my clothes at once!" She waited a moment, but there was no response. "Prince Dorion! You may go on your merry way but _I need my clothes first_!"  
Laurëa let out an aggravated growl when she still did not see or hear the Prince. The sudden thought crossed her mind that she may have gotten..._No. A daughter of Leeum would never be lost,_ she thought firmly. This did little to reassure her, but still she walked on through the trees, calling after Prince Dorion.  
Suddenly, Laurëa heard a twig snap behind her. She whirled around, expecting to see the Prince and give him a good lashing at, but to her surprise no one was there. "Prince Dorion?" she ventured.

Dorion walked without a thought for about ten minutes, then he began to worry. The girl wasn't following him; he didn't hear a thing. The silence of the woods made him shiver. He decided to turn back. Within a short while, he heard her irritated voice once again. Laughing, he hid behind a tree, close enough to hear her but not to be heard or seen.  
Laurëa seemed fine at first, but how fine can a women be without her most precious belongings? He snickered as he looked down into his sacs._ I do have her clothing, don't I? _he thought to himself.  
He was about to make a move toward her when a twig snap caught his attention. Laurëa had heard it to. She called out to him, but he did not answer, his ears strained for another sound.  
Shortly a strange noise emanated from behind Laurëa and a low growl was heard. Dorion suddenly realized what was happening: it was an animal.  
All at once he beast lunged out of the shrubs and put itself in between Laurëa and Dorion. It appeared to be a wolf. It was gray with blacked tipped ears and tail, its eyes like fire, its fangs foaming with hunger or rage. It began to corner Laurëa up against a tree, snarling viciously.  
Dorion unsheathed his sword and jumped out in front of the beast, Laurëa taking in sharp breaths behind him.  
The wolf snarled and growled, edging closer to Dorion with its teeth bared.  
"Come and get me," said Dorion with laughter and malice behind his gaze. The wolf lunged at him, knocking him and his sword down. Dorion was able to get his sword in time before the wolf made another move. With quick efficiency, Dorion plunged the sword into the wolf's side, hitting a vital organ. It died and lay still.  
Dorion stood up, breathing hard, and returned his sword to his side. Upon stepping closer to the dead wolf, Dorion could see the beast had some kind of leather collar around its neck.  
Engraved in Elvish scrawl on the collar was the name "Elf Killer."

Dorion grimaced. "Who would name their dog, Elf Killer?" he wondered aloud.  
He then looked back at Laurëa, who was trembling against a tree. "It's okay," he said to her.  
Not waiting for her reply, Dorion bent down and examined the wolf. Not only did it have the collar, but it had a strange mark on its back, apparently chemically put on, in the shape of an arrow and some bird of prey, not unlike the bird of Hunvel.  
Knowing he had seen it somewhere, Dorion silently pulled out his history book. He turned to the first page where the steward Authon had written to his father many years ago. Next to Authon's name was the same emblem engraved on the wolf. He froze.

Laurëa was hardly reassured by the Prince's words. "Okay? A savage beast nearly kills me and you say it's _okay?_" she snarled, still breathing hard. However, the Prince seemed not to hear her. He was examining the wolf's neck with an expression Laurëa could not quite define. Still staring at the neck, the Prince pulled out a book---_that history book again!_---and opened it to the first page. Laurëa watched him read for a moment, then suddenly he froze, a frightened and confused look on his face. Despite herself, Laurëa stepped over to him. "What is it?"

Dorion clutched the book, making a fist with his other hand and slamming it hard on the ground.  
The air of the forest grew thick and the sun beams from above cast down on the scene. It was about noon but Dorion felt like it could very well be midnight.  
He stood up next to Laurëa. "I don't know exactly, but if my instincts are correct, we have an enemy on our tails."

He rolled the wolf carcass over to show Laurëa the mark in comparison to the symbol in the book.  
"See," he said, "the mark of the Steward."

"The Steward? But my father is..." Laurëa trailed off as her eyes skimmed the page of the Prince's book. _Authon? Why is that name so familiar?_ she thought as she read. Her father had been the Steward of Hunvel for nearly eighteen years, she was told. _My father..._ Laurëa let out a small gasp as she remembered the look in her father's eyes not too long ago as he was reading the letter that had been nailed to their front door. _Authon has returned, he said._  
"Authon, former Steward of Hunvel," Laurëa said after a moment. "You told me of him not too long ago. But what does he have to do with anything? Why would an enemy be following us?" Though she tried to convince herself it was of little importance, nothing could shake the image of that look in her father's eyes as he had whispered the former Steward's name.

"I don't know why. But I have a feeling that he is no good," said Dorion quietly. He began to pick up his things and handed Laurëa her sack of clothes. "We need to get out of here. Who knows if other animals will come after us?"

Once inside his room, Gerard saw Anita with her ear against the wall and Ronin standing beside her, awake now but slightly pale. "Gerard, come here! Listen! It's the elf and those men. They're talking about Hunvel!" she whispered to him. The redhead hurried over to the wall to listen.

Though Ronin was standing at the wall listening, hardly a word registered. His head was pounding fiercely and he could not concentrate.

Anita, Gerard and Ronin eavesdropped in complete silence, except for the harsh voices of the occupants in the other room.

"The princes are gone, this is just what we have been waiting for," said a drawling voice with a dark timbre. "If we can kill them off now, goodbye to the heirs of the throne." Anita could almost hear his smirk.  
"But what about that steward, Leeum?" one voice asked.  
"_Him_?" The voice held such malice that even the silence was loud in the other room, there was a long pause. "I shall take care of him. His family, too. He is already disliked by many Elves on account of his past. We can stir some rumors up, get the public angry, and frame him for the kidnapping of the princes. Any form of disloyalty to the throne, be it in thought or action, can rip one of the title 'steward.' We have to get him out of the way, make the Elves see my way, and then I will rule Hunvel, once the King, Queen and their two sniveling children are dead!"

"They're going to kill my mother and father!" Ronin yelled, pushing himself off the wall and standing up. The others winced at the sudden break in the silence, hoping he hadn't been heard through the startlingly thin walls.  
"We have to get back to Hunvel and warn them," he said, ignoring his pounding headache as he began to gather his things and shove them into his bag.

There was a crash in the other room, and a string of profanities wafted through the walls. "They heard," Gerard whispered, his face white.

"I know!" Anita replied with wide eyes. "Quick, outside!" Anita grabbed her things as well as Ronin's hand. Gerard flung open the door and the three of them sprinted across the room, knocking over chairs as they went.

Although the Elf and his thugs raced to discover their eavesdroppers in the next room, they weren't fast enough; when they threw open the door to the youths' room, they found it empty. "They're getting away boss!" the scrawny one whined.  
"I know," the Elf, Authon, snarled. "Tirithiel! Let's go!"


	8. A Narrow Escape

After a moment of spirited running through the woods, Dorion and Laurëa came upon a small village nestled on a hill. Dorion surveyed the land before stepping out in the open. He stopped Laurëa.  
"Do you have anything on you that may mark the realm of Hunvel?"  
He knew he did, and with that he pulled off his wrist guards and placed them in his bag. The rest of him would be covered in a cloak, although it would look odd for him to be cloaked in the day time.

Laurëa frowned at the Prince as he removed his wrist guards, the only conspicuous sign of his nobility. She was irritated that he was ignorant enough to ask such a ridiculous question. "Well, I'll just remove the emblem of the house of Leeum right off my cheek then, shall I? Of _course_ I mark the realm of Hunvel!" she snapped.

Dorion laughed. Indeed, she did. "We will have to hide your face, dear girl." He put her hair tightly around her face, making a sort of hood out of her white-blonde locks, much to the girl's protest.  
Spotting an inn close by, Dorion took a step toward it, but before he could even think of what they were to do in the inn and what they may do afterward, a terrible ruckus came from inside the small building. Dorion pulled Laurëa to him and protected her from view. Three young people ran from inside and out into the woods. Dorion peered at them curiously; two had red hair.  
_"Gerard and Anita?" _  
With a surge of exhilaration, Dorion pulled Laurëa with him after the group. It seemed as he ran that Laurëa was confused, perhaps unsure if she wished to continue on another wild goose chase. He looked back briefly; a dark looking group of Men and Elves were on their tails…

Tirithiel ran after her master and his associates who were chasing the Prince and his cohorts who strangely seemed to be increasing in number as they ran. After a few hard minutes of running, the young group managed to duck amongst the buildings and they were far enough ahead that they could not be followed anymore.  
"Search the town. We must get them before they get away," Authon snarled, pointing in the directions that his henchmen should go.  
"Master?" Tirithiel said, timidly. He glanced at her and she took it as a cue to continue. "I think if I went and talked with them...perhaps I could delay them? Of course, I wouldn't tell them I was working for you, Master."  
Authon considered it. "Very well," he grunted down at Tirithiel, clearly making an effort to hide his pleasure at her cleverness. "You will delay them. Do whatever you can. Kill them, if you must," he pulled from his cloak a long knife in a sheath and thrust it into her trembling hands.

Gerard was dragging his sister and Ronin behind him. When Laurëa and Dorion joined them in their race for escape, he couldn't help but smile. _What a chase!_ he thought to himself.

Anita ducked under a beam and motioned for the others to follow. "I have been to this town before. I know of a way out!"

Gerard vaguely remembered coming here, but Anita had always had the amazing long term memory. He followed her blindly until she pulled up a well-hidden board. It was attached by rusty hinges to the ground, and it was situated beneath a staircase.

"This way." Anita pointed to the hideaway and disappeared inside. The others followed shortly, and she shut the trap door behind them. "Quickly!" She hurried along and grabbed a torch off the wall. They were all forced to hunch down, though they still went at a fast pace. Anita stopped shortly to light the torch, and continued silently.

Gerard was looking around intently. "How'd you find this, Anita?" he asked curiously.

The redheaded girl sighed. Her brother was never rightly worried; his optimistic outlook on life annoyed her greatly sometimes. "I was exploring under the staircase and the last user had left it open. I fell in," she said somewhat sheepishly. "The next trap door is out of the city gates, it's not far, we have to hurry though."

Dorion was somewhat surprised that Anita knew of this passage and that they had escaped so quickly. All of their breathing and the heavy darkness of the tunnel, despite the torch, weighed on Dorion.  
Listening to the two redheads talking, he questioned, "Why would this trap door lead to the outside of Hunvel? What purpose does it hold?" He suddenly felt as if they may have wandered into a trap. _What if Authon owns this place?_

Ronin followed warily through the passageway. They were coming upon the exit soon.  
"Wait!" he called to Anita, who was in the lead. "You should let me go out first. Dorion is right to question what this tunnel is used for. It could be a trap."

"No, Ronin," Dorion said in a whisper, "Let me do it. Perhaps I can play the element of surprise on them."  
Dorion expected Ronin to obey, but in light of the recent events and the very fact that he had ran away in the first place, Dorion didn't believe that he would listen. Nevertheless, he stepped forward.

"Do you want to tell me what is going on here?" Laurëa demanded as she followed Prince Dorion. She touched her hair and pulled it out of the tight knot the Prince had put it in. "First you ridiculously plaster my hair to my face, you whisk me to some slum of an inn, then you yank me through streets claiming we're running for our lives, and now you're talking about some surprise attack on the ones who set us up in a trap. What will you do next, hold a knife to my throat and ask me to marry you?" she fumed.

Dorion laughed under his breath. "You silly girl, I wouldn't ask you to marry me even if you held a knife to _my _neck!" He playfully squeezed her hand, from which she drew away forcefully.

Laurëa scowled at the Prince and yanked her hand out of his vigorously, muttering curses under her breath. He had beaten her that time, she had to admit. They were even now, it seemed.  
"I hope that as soon as you are done playing your little games you can return me home at once so I may inform my father of all this," she snarled. _That was rather weak coming from me,_ Laurëa thought glumly as she continued to glare at the Prince in the dark.

With the knife tucked at her waist amid the folds of her skirt, Tirithiel rushed for the city gates.  
_There are only two ways out of this town. The gates and the passageway. They headed in the direction of the passageway last, but they could've doubled back._ Reaching the gates as quickly as she could, and hopefully quicker than they could, she waited in between the gates and the trapdoor, trying to catch her breath and thinking quickly.

As Dorion and Laurëa squabbled, Gerard hurried past them. "Stay here, I have a bad feeling about something. I'm going up." He ducked back through the tunnel, and upon emerging was surprised to see the attractive barmaid standing there conspicuously. He took a deep breath and strolled over to her.

"Hi, Tirithiel, remember me? Geran? I was wondering if you've seen my friends, the sick boy that thinks he's a prince? A red head girl?" It was obvious that he had just come out of the tunnel, as there was nothing else down the street, but he hoped that his diversion would work.  
His instincts were usually correct, and he had figured out that one mug wouldn't get Ronin drunk. There was something fishy going on, and he had a feeling that Tirithiel was somehow part of it.

Tirithiel was surprised to see that Geran had come out of the trapdoor when she wasn't looking. She managed to keep cool, wiping a bit of sweat off her forehead as she tucked her hair behind her ears.  
"No, I haven't seen them, but I don't think they've left town. I got a new job, you see. My father showed up at the bar soon after you left and said he didn't like the look of the place. I work here at the gates now. Kind of like a welcoming committee," she smiled, satisfied that she had come up with a cover story quickly.

Gerard nodded. "Alright…Your father seems to be kind of protective."  
He felt that neither of them really believed each other, and yet they both seemed to want to continue the ridiculous facades. _Her working at the gate? Right..._Yet his excuses were no better. He needed to get out of there.  
"Well, I'm going to go look for them. Strange, I was standing there in the town square and they all took off. Better retrace my steps and see if they're around there. You know if there's a short cut to the town square down that way?" He attempted a grin as he wandered off.   
When Gerard reached the trap door again and found the others, he hurried them out. "I hope you have another idea Anita because we're busted."

Anita looked around, unsure. "The roof?" she muttered.

"Have you gone daft?" Gerard exclaimed quietly.

"No," Anita replied indignantly. "Nobody ever looks up. Come on." With that, she led the way to a nearby building, high enough to be hidden from view once on the roof but low enough to climb. Anita first climbed the stairs, then edged onto a beam that lay around the walls. She held onto the ramparts and swung herself up, then crouched on the edge of the roof motioned for the others to join her.

"She honestly expects me to climb up a building?" Gerard said to nobody in particular, though he hurried up the stairs to start the tricky climb.

Dorion looked back toward Laurëa, who was lagging behind and skeptically watching Anita scale the building. "Funny, we seem to be left behind all the time." He took her by the hand again and pulled her firmly to the wall. He watched as Anita made her daring escape to the roof tops while waiting to begin climbing.  
"She is quiet agile for a human, is she not?" he questioned Laurëa casually. Without waiting for a reply, he said, "We should probably go up, although I am concerned about you. Can you climb at all, or do I have to carry you?"

Laurëa was becoming quite tired of being yanked along every which way by the arrogant Prince. She ignored his complimenting that red-headed coquette, but smirked inwardly. _Trying to make me jealous, dear Prince?_ she almost asked aloud.  
"As much as I know you would love to hold and cradle me in your arms again," Laurëa said to the Prince, her eyes glinting dangerously, "I think I can quite manage on my own."  
She pushed her way in front of him rudely and looked for a sturdy foothold to begin her ascent. Once she did so, she grasped a wooden beam and---with as much dignity as she could muster---began an odd sort of shimmy up the wall, which soon became increasingly difficult as she realized she was still in her nightgown and had never shimmied, much less up a wall, in her life.

Anita almost laughed...almost, but she did manage to keep a straight face. Gerard and his sister were crouched low, and when Laurëa reached the top, Anita surprisingly helped her up, though the stuffy girl was rather reluctant to take her hand.  
Once Laurëa was up and haughtily poised on the roof, Anita leaned over the edge, her red hair falling around her. "Ronin!" she called softly. "Come on! You too Dorion!"

Dorion began to climb. _Made it look too easy_, he thought with a glance toward his brother behind him as he made it up within moments. Dorion planted his feet firmly on the roof and settled down with the others. The view from up here was a splendid one; he could see the entire village, the forests all around, and a group of riders coming into the town. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the riders. Though they were cloaked, their dark dress did not hide the maliciousness that seemed to flow from them toward the village. Dorion inhaled sharply. The riders were advancing.

It had been almost a full day since the children had gone. Hunvel was in a state of shock; the residents were trying to go about their normal lives but no one seemed to be focused.  
Lady Hiranneth stood on a palace patio facing the east sky. It was a beautiful day, but something inside of her told her to be on watch. _A mother's instincts are never wrong._ She knew well enough that the children were alright, but something else was askew.

Kiran came up behind her, close to her, wrapping her in his arms. He breathed her scent in deeply and sighed. "It's a lovely evening, is it not?"

Hiranneth said sadly, "All the more lonely than lovely."

Kiran nestled his head on her shoulder. There was silence all around…There was nothing.

Watchers, sat in the trees, scanning the area for the ambush. The troop leader, Brunien, was crouched in a near by shrub talking lowly to his men.  
"Make sure that when we attack there are no hesitations. Authon will not want a weak link anywhere."  
Murmuring agreement, all 150 outcasts, both Men and Elves, climbed their trees and hid. Their eyes caught the light of the sun that was slowly setting behind the massive palace.

Hiranneth looked longingly at the forest one last time before the sun would finally set. Suddenly she caught sight of a human form, glinting eyes staring at her. She froze.

Kiran felt her fear. "What's wrong?"

Before she could say anything, a terrible sound emanated from the forest edge. Harsh war cries stung her ears and made her heart stop. Elves in the square were being caught left and right. They tried to fight but there were too many attackers.  
Both Hiranneth and Kiran were seized and pulled away from each other. Hiranneth's captor laughed in her ear. "Hello doll," he cackled wickedly.  
She kicked at him and got away, running down the corridor and into the gardens. She tripped over a pot and landed hard. Getting up in pain, she looked up and saw horse legs in front of her. She strained her head up and saw a familiar but dreaded face...Authon.

"Hello, Hiranneth," he said sweetly. "Fancy finding you here." The men behind him laughed cruelly.

Hiranneth did not speak; she simply stared, mouth agape.  
Authon got off his horse and gave her a hand up. She took it reluctantly. Authon was different in apperance now that he had lived a hard life in exile. His face was still young but a sinister glare came from his cold eyes. His hair was done in braids and knots. He also had a scar on his right cheek; that she did remember. In the heat of the battle of Authon's uprising, as Kiran and Leeum were both in a sword battle with Authon, Leeum had cut the rebel's face, making Authon wince in pain and fall. Authon and his followers had been successfully cast out of Hunvel because of that one stroke.  
Blinking back memories, Hiranneth finally spoke. "What makes you think that your presence here will be accepted by us?"

Authon smiled and got back up on his horse. Pulling the reigns he called out, demanding the attention of all the Elves. The captors let go of their captives. A hush fell upon them all, tension hovering in the air like fog.  
"Attention Elves of Hunvel, my friends and brothers alike," he called out in a voice of command. "It has come to my attention that something terrible has happened in the last couple of days."  
The town was on edge. "The disappearance of your dear Princes...Does that ring a bell to anyone?"

The silence was unbearable. Hiranneth's eyes burned. If Authon had anything to do with this, she would personally kill him herself.

"I heard and came immediately to Hunvel to mourn with you, but on my way I found out something of interest...," continued Authon. He snapped his fingers and two burly men dragged a beaten up Leeum from out of the crowd to the front. A gasp overtook the Elves of Hunvel.

Hiranneth's eyes widened. "What have you done to him?"

Authon became grave, "Surely you must mean what has _he _done to _you_. And to all of us." Hiranneth gulped, but said nothing. "This man you call Steward," he spit in Leeum's face with a snarl, "murdered the Princes and plans to take the throne!"  
The audience went into an uproar, crying in outrage and demanding proof. Authon whistled loudly above all the cries and a lone shadow crossed the sky above him and Hiranneth. Hiranneth looked up to see a large hawk, black with brown feather tips come soaring down onto Authon's arm and give a loud screech of a cry. Its eyes were golden, and in its black beak it held a small piece of jewelry. Authon took it the glittering metal and stroked the bird.  
"This," he said at long last, "was found on the property of Steward Leeum and Lady Ahéawan, thanks to the help of my followers. Does it look familiar my lady?"

Hiranneth was handed the small ring the bird once held. With a start, Hiranneth realized it was Dorion's. This did show Dorion was present at Leeum's house the night of his disappearance, but what did it mean? Was Laurëa with him?  
"This doesn't prove anything Authon," Hiranneth said firmly.

Authon frowned but motioned for the Elf maid that had first found the Princes missing to approach. She examined it for a moment, then exclaimed to the crowd, "It is Prince Dorion's ring! Why would he not be wearing his ring if Leeum did not want it for spoils!"  
The crowd, confused by this evidence, began to cry out, most in anger, lashing out with words of insult at Leeum.

Hiranneth bowed her head and began to cry. "Valar, be with him," she whispered low.

After a moment Authon turned to Hiranneth and asked loudly of everyone, "Why does a mother weep for the murderer of her sons?"  
The multitude of people gathered around them increased their shouts of anger, their accusations, and their demands of "Why?"

Hiranneth gave no answer.  
A cry went up, piercing and hateful. "Hiranneth must go! She killed her sons in spirit!" The cry was soon joined until it overpowered all else.

_What can I do_? thought Hiranneth hopelessly. Her people were right to be angry. They had their right to be suspicious and uncertain. Leeum did have a haunting past. She was a mortal ruling Elves. With despair, Hiranneth hung her head in defeat. Authon had all the cards in his hands now.


End file.
